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\te  Due 


THE   CAMBRIDGE  "APOSTLES 


Williaiu  Henry  Brook  field 

From   a  portrait  by  Samuel  Laurence 


4 


THE    CAMBRIDGE       6 


44 


APOSTLES  " 


By 
FRANCES    M.    BROOKFIELD 


NEW   YORK 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S   SONS 

153-157  Fifth  Avenue 

1906 


\'^ 


butler  &  tannek. 

The  Selwood  Printing  works, 

frome,  and  london. 


^ 


PREFACE 

I  HAVE  not  attempted  in  this  book  to  write  a  complete 
or  collective  history  of  the  Cambridge  "  Apostles." 
Such  a  work  might  prove  of  interest  to  individuals 
but  hardly  to  the  world  at  large.  Nor  have  I  pre- 
sumed to  pick  out  from  the  register  of  that  distin- 
guished band  the  twelve  indisputably  the  most  bril- 
liant and  renowned.  SuchT.would|be  an  invidious  and 
pretentious  task,  and  in  any  case  beyond  my  powers. 
All  I  have  tried  to  do  is  to  give  a  few  sketches  of  such 
of  the  "  Apostles  "  as  were  friends  of  the  late  William 
Henry  Brookfield,  of  whom  accordingly  I  have  family 
traditions  and  literary  records.  I  was  pleased  and 
flattered  to  find,  after  having  made  my  selection,  that 
it  tallied  with  the  list  of  illustrious  "  Apostles  "  men- 
tioned by  the  late  Lord  Houghton  on  the  occasion  of 
the  opening  "of  the  new  Cambridge  *'  Union  "  in  1866. 
In ';my"  selection  of  letters  from  these  eminent  men 
I  have  endeavoured  to  choose  those  which  should 
reveal,  not  so  much  the  intellectual  mission  of  the 
man  as  the  humanity  of  the  intellectual  missionary. 
For  remarkable  as  were  the  mental  powers  of  each  one 
of  this  dazzling  group,  it  is  not  his  genius  which  strikes 
one  first  and  most  forcibly,  but  his  greatness  of  heart, 


viii  PREFACE 

his  extraordinary  capacity  for  loving  and  need  of  being 
loved. 

For  helpful  assistance  in  this  work  I  am  greatly 
indebted  to  the  generous  co-operation  of  Mrs.  Venables, 
the  Misses  Spedding,  the  Misses  Blakesley,  Miss  Judith 
Merivale  and  Mrs.  C.  B.  Johnson  (author  of  William 
Bodham  Donne  and  his  Friends).  Also  to  Major-General 
Sir  Frederick  Maurice,  K.C.B.,  Major-General  Sterhng, 
Colonel  Kemble,  Messrs.  Chapman  and  Hall,  W.  L. 
Courtney,  Esq.,  Messrs.  Methuen  ;  to  the  Rev.  C.  B. 
Donne  and  W.  Mowbray  Donne,  Esq.,  who  lent  me 
the  valuable  letters  in  their  possession,  and  to  the  author 
of  Charles  Lowden,  who  kindly  permitted  me  to  make 
use  of  his  Life  and  Memorials  of  Archbishop  Trench, 
to  whom  and  to  all  I  tender  my  truly  grateful  thanks. 

Frances  M.  Brookfield. 
High  Wycombe, 
October,  1906. 


CONTENTS 


CHAP 
I. 

The  "Apostles" 

1 

II. 

William  Henry  Brookfield 

20 

III. 

The  Friend  of  the  "  Apostles  "  . 

42 

IV. 

The  Friend  of  the  "Apostles"  (continued) 

63 

V. 

Joseph  William  Blakesley  . 

84 

VI. 

Charles  Buller 

107 

VII. 

Arthur  Henry  Hallam 

123 

VIII. 

John  Mitchell  Kemble        .         .         .         . 

159 

IX. 

Henry  Lushington       .... 

188 

X. 

Frederick  Denison  Maurice 

201 

XI. 

Richard  Monckton  Milnes  . 

227 

XII. 

James  Spedding 

252 

XIII. 

John  Sterling 

283 

XIV. 

Alfred  Tennyson 

308 

XV. 

Richard  Chenevix  Trench    . 

331 

XVI. 

George  Stovin  Venables 

347 

Index  

ix 

365 

i 


INDEX   TO    ILLUSTRATIONS 


William  Henry  Brookfield 
Joseph  William  Blakesley 
Charles  Buller    . 
Arthur  H.  Hallam 
John  Mitchell  Kemble 
Frederick  Denison  Maurice 
Richard  Monckton  Milnes  . 
James  Spedding     . 
John  Sterling 
Alfred  Tennyson 
Richard  Chenevix  Trench  . 
George  Stovin  Venables     . 


• 

Frontispiece 

To  face  -page 

84 

» 

It 

108 

» 

M 

124 

.» 

>» 

160 

»> 

»» 

202 
228 

» 

>» 

252 

♦» 

284 
308 

" 

" 

332 

„ 

t* 

348 

THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 


CHAPTER  I 

THE    "  APOSTLES  " 

The  first  ripe  taste  of  manhood's  best  dehghts, 
Knowledge  imbibed,  while  mind  and  heart  agree, 
In  sweet  belated  talk  on  winter  nights, 
With  friends,  whom  growing  time  keeps  dear  to  me, — 

(MONCKTON   MiLNES). 

Brothers,  who  up  Reason's  hill 

Advance  with  hopeful  cheer, 
O  !  loiter  not,  those  heights  are  chill. 

As  chill  as  they  are  clear  ; 
And  still  restrain  your  haughty  gaze, 

The  loftier  that  ye  go. 
Remembering  distance  leaves  a  haze 

On  all  that  lies  below. 

{lUd,) 

The  third  and  fourth  decades  of  the  nineteenth 
century  found  together  at  one  time  at  our  great 
universities  an  extraordinary  number  of  exceptionally 
gifted  men  :  men  of  keen  wit,  of  solid  thought,  of 
brilliant  achievement.  But  while  we  acclaim  these 
giants  of  the  past,  we  are  constrained  to  compare 
them  with  the  pygmies  of  the  present.  By  compari- 
son, the  undergraduate  of  to-day  appears  dull, 
mediocre   and  unpromising.     There  is  excellent   and 

abundant  reason  to  rejoice  over  and  take  pride  in 
I— (2318  )  1 


2  THE   CAMBRIDGE   '^APOSTLES" 

the  rare  talents  of  the  youth  of  that  bygone  era— 
for   they   glowed  with   energy,   they   set   forth  with 
steadfast  purpose,  and  they  arrived  long  ago  at  their 
goal.     Yet  parents  and  guardians  in  those  times  had 
their  day  of  doubt.     It  is  we,  of  the  next  generation, 
who  can  appreciate  their  children's  careers— just  as 
it  is  our  descendants  who  must  sit  in  judgment  on 
our  contemporaries.     The  tide  of  thought  in  a  great 
university  is  constantly  flowing,   although,  Uke  the 
stream  of  a  wide  river,  its  course  is  hardly  visible  ; 
imperceptibly,  however,  it  seems  to  have  made  further 
progress  at  Cambridge  during  the  past  century  than 
during  any  similar  period  of  time.     Each  generation 
has   had   its   distinctive   features— mental,   psychical 
and  social.     In  each  "  set  "  the  highest  mettled  has 
struck  his  spark  which  in  due  time  has  glowed  into  a 
guiding   luminary.     May   we   not   hope   that   in   the 
apparent  dullness  of  to-day  there  lurks  here  and  there 
an  unperceived  ember  which  will  one  day  burst  hke- 
wise  into  flame  ?     The  light  of  genius  seems  certainly 
more  diffused  to-day  than  it  was  seventy  years  ago. 
We  are  no  longer  dazzled  by  a  few  blazing  beacons, 
but  illumined  by  rows  upon  rows  of  twinkling  lanterns. 
Still,  one  of  these  may  continue  to  burn  more  and 
more  brightly  as  his  fellows  flicker  out,  until  he  shall 
beam  upon  a  generation  to  come  with  as  brilliant  an 
effulgence  as  was  shed  by  the  shining  Hghts  of  "  those 
dawn-golden  times." 

There  was  in  the  air  of  Cambridge,  in  the  spring  of 
the  nineteenth  century,  a  spirit  of   intellectual  free- 


THE   "APOSTLES"  3 

masonry,  a  tendency  of  bright  wits  to  recognize  each 
other  and  to  drift  into  sodaHties  more  or  less  informal 
and  undefined.  Some  of  these  remained  mere  "  sets  " 
— that  is  to  say,  groups  of  friends  united  by  nothing 
more  than  a  community  of  likes  and  dislikes.  Some 
developed  into  "  societies  "  with  a  definite  object — 
the  pursuit  of  some  special  quarry  or  the  riding  of 
some  particular  hobby ;  but  the  most  important, 
distinguished  and  lasting  result  of  this  gregarious 
tendency  of  sympathetic  souls  was  the  constitution  of 
a  fellowship  commonly  known  by  its  cant  name  of 
'*  The  Apostles." 

The  conditions  of  life  at  that  time  were  such  that 
they  caused  men  who  were  in  possession  of  greater 
than  ordinary  abihty  to  float  towards  each  other  ;  to 
become,  by  right  of  a  community  of  interests,  fast 
and  abiding  friends  ;  and  the  friendship  that  existed 
between  a  certain  set  of  undergraduates  at  St.  John's  in 
the  year  1820 — men  of  high  promise  and  higher  hopes 
— undoubtedly  led  to  the  forming  of  this  distinguished 
"  Society."  Attracted  towards  one  another  by  an 
equality  of  mental  attainments  and  similar  tastes  in 
literature,  the  thoughts  of  each  acted  and  reacted 
upon  those  of  his  fellows  until  all  were  fired  with  the 
same  intellectual  desire.  This  took  the  form  of  a 
common  craving  for  further  investigation  than  was 
permitted  by  the  opportunities  given  by  the  Univer- 
sity, into  higher  philosophy.  In  order  to  achieve  this, 
they,  with  the  venturesomeness  of  youth  and  a  pro- 
digious belief  in  self — and  also,  be  it  said,  in  face  of 


4  THE  CAMBRIDGE   ^'APOSTLES" 

the  fact  that  they  were  looked  on  coldly  by  more 
conventional  minds — formed  themselves  into  a  society 
for  the  writing  of  essays  upon  subjects  on  which  they 
required  larger  and  wider  infomiation.  To  this  end, 
and  to  promote  and  provoke  discussion  upon  their 
favourite  themes,  they  arranged  that  members  should 
meet  together  once  a  week  for  these  objects. 

Henry  Tomlinson  (afterwards  Bishop  of  Gibraltar) 
was  of  this  gifted  band — and  one  of  the  founders  of 
the  Society — which  was  called  "  The  Cambridge  Con- 
versazione Society,"  which  name  remains  its  title  to  this 
day  ;  the  more  familiar  designation,  "  The  Apostles," 
having  been  originally  applied  to  them  in  a  spirit  of 
banter.  A  member  of  the  Society  might  belong  to 
any  college,  but  he  was  bound  to  have  more  than 
ordinary  talents,  and  as  well  a  distinct  and  original 
personality.  Once  elected,  a  new  member  would 
urge  the  claims  of  his  own  close  friend  to  be  the  next ; 
he  himself  having  been  raised  to  the  dignity  by  others 
already  his  friends. 

The  common  idea  has  been  that  membership  of  this 
sodality  of  itself  bestowed  glory,  but  that  was  not  so, 
at  least  in  early  days.  In  its  prime,  from  the  year 
1824-1840,  each  member  took  to  the  Society  his 
laurels  ready  plaited,  and  it  was  the  individual 
brilliancy  of  its  members  which  caused  this  Society  to 
shine  so  brightly. 

The  "  Cambridge  Conversazione  Society "  carried 
on  its  work  with  more  or  less  success,  until  it  was 
observed  that  Trinity  was  giving  to  it  all  its  best 


THE  "APOSTLES"  5 

talents;  accordingly,  its  meetings  thereafter  were 
held  in  that  college.  Then  began  its  golden 
era  ;  and  then  it  was  that  its  members  (Hmited  to 
twelve)  came  in  gentle  raillery  to  be  called  "  Apostles/' 
a  term  meekly— and,  according  to  some  of  themselves 
— appreciatively  accepted  ;  and  which  was  met  by  a 
sinking  of  all  allusion  to  their  high  distinction  when 
in  the  company  of  those  not  of  the  "  Society."  The 
eminence  achieved  in  after  life  by  almost  every  one 
of  those  early  Cambridge  "Apostles"  shows  that 
collectively  they  must  have  possessed,  besides  their 
talent  and  genius,  a  keen  and  critical  perception  of 
promise  very  remarkable  in  men  so  young.  The 
most  stringent  of  their  rules  enacted  that  the  ab- 
solute freedom  of  thought  and  speech  they  one  and 
all  desired  should  be  respected  by  every  member  and 
in  all  circumstances  ;  and,  in  order  that  no  one  of 
them  in  his  ideas  or  convictions  should  in  any  way 
be  trammelled  or  hampered,  minutes  of  their  meetings 
were  never  published. 

The  Hfe  of  an  "  Apostle  "  at  this  time  was,  as 
Carlyle  says,  "  an  ardently  speculative  and  talking 
one."  The  method  of  the  young  enthusiasts  was  first 
of  all  to  strip  tegument  from  tegument,  until  the  very 
heart  of  their  subject  was  laid  bare ;  next,  to  reveal 
to  the  world  the  secrets  their  scalpels  had  brought  to 
light.  The  ambitions  expressed  and  the  business  per- 
formed at  their  assemblies  give  a  lively  impression  of 
the  ebulUtions  of  a  group  of  congenial  spirits  on  the  same 
intellectual  plane,  proud  with  the  florescence  of  youth, 


6  THE  CAMBRIDGE   '^ APOSTLES" 

which  in  a  first  ordering  of  Hfe  for  self  had  gained 
what  it  required — in  this  case,  opportunity  for  the 
expression  of  seething  thought  and  new-born  specu- 
lation. 

The  usual  procedure  was  to  meet  every  Saturday 
night  in  the  rooms  of  the  one  whose  turn  it  was  to  read 
the  essay ;  essays  being  read  by  each  of  them  in  regular 
succession.  After  preliminary  precautions  such  as  the 
"sporting"  of  the  ''oak"  or  outer  door,  as  well  as  the 
locking  of  the  inner  one,  the  host  of  the  evening  would 
provide  his  guests  with  light  refreshments,  which  in- 
variably included  coffee  and  anchovies  on  toast — called 
"  whales,"  even  in  those  days — after  which  he  gave 
to  them  his  own  thoughts — frank  and  free.  Then  the 
others  replied,  agreed,  disproved,  criticized,  as  con- 
science or  as  humour  dictated. 

There  was  no  prim  ordering  of  the  day  ;  each 
"  ApostoHc  "  essayist  read  his  best,  and  polished  his 
material  under  the  encouraging  murmurs  or  the 
sympathetic  ejaculations  of  friends  as  he  went  along  ; 
while  each  of  his  hearers  imbibed  the  information  given 
him  at  his  ease,  lounging  in  easy  chairs,  on  sofa  or 
hearthrug,  until  discussion  became  heated  or  interest- 
ing enough  to  demand  a  more  vigilant  attitude. 

Theological  and  political  investigations,  as  became  the 
time  and  the  place,  abounded  ;  sometimes  the  theme 
was  purely  metaphysical,  sometimes  scientific  or 
literary;  but  each  and  every  subject  which  they  took 
and  pondered  over  was  discussed,  criticized  and 
settled  fearlessly  for  themselves. 


THE   '^ APOSTLES"  7 

Where  once  we  held  debate,  a  band 
Of  youthful  friends,  on  mind  and  art, 
And  labour,  and  the  changing  mart, 
And  all  the  framework  of  the  land ; 

When  one  would  aim  an  arrow  fair, 
But  send  it  slackly  from  the  string ; 
And  one  would  pierce  an  outer  ring. 
And  one  an  inner,  here  and  there  ; 

And  last  the  master-bowman,  he 
Would  cleave  the  mark, 

is  Tennyson's  masterly  description  of  these  intellectual 
assemblies. 

For  a  period  poetry  ruled  supreme,  and  this  perhaps 
was  their  favourite  subject  ;  all  of  them  being  poets 
or  having,  at  all  events,  the  poetic  temperament. 
But  on  poetry,  as  on  every  topic  chosen,  they  turned 
their  searchlight  of  philosophy  and  reason.  Landor 
and  Southey  inspired  them  and  gave  them  zest  in 
criticism  ;  for  some  time  they  hved  under  Shelley's 
influence  ;  they  brought  Keats  to  the  knowledge  of 
mankind ;  and  Coleridge  and  Wordsworth,  both 
beloved  by  them,  gave  them  painful  as  well  as  joyful 
moments.  They  would  have  only  that  which  they  con- 
sidered to  be  the  highest ;  they  dismissed  with  disdain 
everything  that  seemed  to  them  to  savour  of  humbug  or 
of  "  pill  "  ;  and,  however  heated  their  "  instructive 
hours  "  sometimes  became,  they  permitted  no  differ- 
ence of  opinion,  however  wide,  to  shake  the  solid  and 
steady  affection  which  existed  between  them.  This 
affectionate  interest  and  friendly  intercourse  between 
the  "Apostles"  was  once,  by  one  of  themselves,  likened 


8  THE  CAMBRIDGE   '^APOSTLES" 

to  the  description  of  friendship  given  so  long  before 
by  St.  Augustine  : 

"  To  talk  and  laugh  with  mutual  concessions,  to 
read  pleasant  books  ;  to  jest  and  to  be  solemn,  to 
dissent  from  each  other  without  offence,  to  teach  one 
another  somewhat,  or  somewhat  to  learn — to  expect 
those  absent  with  impatience  and  embrace  their  re- 
turn with  joy." 

But  they  were  all  through  and  first  of  all  "  modern  " 
and  modern  with  the  first  bloom  and  freshness  of  the 
changing  times  upon  them  ;  therefore  they  took  and 
used,  whenever  and  wherever  they  found  it,  the 
thought  which  seemed  freshest  and  newest  and  which 
best  blent  with  their  own.  Niebiihr  for  them  was  a 
god,  who  for  a  lengthy  period  formed  all  their  senti- 
ments. Bentham,  Mill,  and  others  took  them  in  their 
turn  and  whirled  their  thoughts  this  way  and  that ; 
these  intellectual  bouts  leaving  them  sometimes  con- 
fused and  sometimes  dissatisfied.  Yet  with  such 
strength  of  character  were  these  "  Apostles "  girt, 
that  they  emerged  from  their  wrestlings  with  these 
Titans  with  but  little  loss  of  individuality. 

Above  their  ardent  yearnings  to  clear  the  abstruse, 
and  to  make  the  world  see  with  their  eyes — which 
endeavours,  after  all,  were  the  end  and  aim  of  the 
"Society  " — must  be  placed  the  wish  of  all  of  them  that 
each  should  use  for  all  it  was  worth  the  talent  en- 
trusted to  him  ;  that  he  should  shape  a  straight  and 
definite  course  and  walk  that  course  directly  and  in 
satisfaction  to  success. 


THE   '' APOSTLES!"  9 

In  just  presumption  many  of  them  attempted  the 
fulfilment  of  this  pleasing  expectation,  making  their 
effort  in  advantageous  circumstances,  surrounded  by 
minds  great  enough  to  give  them  a  sense  of  their  own 
greatness,  and  encouraged  as  men  in  this  life  were 
seldom  encouraged.  Were  there  not  in  these  days,  to 
mention  only  a  few  of  them,  Trench,  Sterling,  Alford, 
Maurice,  Kemble,  Spedding,  Buller,  Blakesley,  Milnes, 
Henry  and  Edmund  Lushington,  Alfred  and  Frederick 
Tennyson,  Venables,  Allen,  Garden,  Thompson,  Meri- 
vale,  Hallam,  Heath,  Donne,  Monteith,  Thirlwall  ? 
Was  there  ever  of  late  centuries,  at  one  given  time,  so 
formidable  a  phalanx  of  talent  ?  Does  it  not  compel 
comparison  with  the  similar  rush  that  came  with  the 
last  years  of  Elizabeth  ?  and  do  not  our  later  and  not 
lesser  lights  meet  on  common  ground  with  Spencer, 
Marlowe,  Donne,  Sidney,  and  Jonson  ? 

Our  "  Apostles  "  could  have  dispensed,  had  they 
chosen,  with  authority  and  precedent  and  the  opinions 
of  the  ancients.  They  had  enough  of  contemporary 
material  on  which  to  form  their  opinions  and  whet 
their  critical  curiosity  ;  they  had  their  own  friends' 
burning  thoughts  and  robust  methods  to  attack  or  ac- 
claim— thoughts  and  methods  born  often  of  their  own 
inner  consciousness  and  fostered  by  friendly  comment. 

The  dissimilarity  in  style  of  the  '*  Apostles  "  adds 
to  the  interest  of  the  Society.  The  primary  aim  of  the 
Society  had  been,  it  is  true,  to  associate  together  those 
of  the  loftiest  and  solidest  thought  ;  but  its  members 
who  possessed  these  attributes  in  the  highest  perfection 


10  THE   CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

were  those  who  demanded  admittance  for  friends  of 
gayer  and  hghter  vein  ;  men  who  had  cultivated 
nimbleness  of  wit  as  well  as  originality  of  thought, 
who  should  brighten  discussions  which  evinced  a 
tendency  to  become  dull  in  their  profundity. 
Trench  and  Kemble,  Maurice  and  Duller  represent 
opposites,  amongst  the  earher  lights  ;  and  by  and  by 
Arthur  Hallam  and  Spedding  relaxed  their  deeper 
interests  and  heavier  weighted  minds — and  bandied 
nonsense  with  Blakesley  and  Monckton  Milnes. 

Two  of  the  Society's  most  brilliant  members  did 
not  long  shed  their  light  upon  it.  Alfred  Tennyson, 
too  lethargic  to  have  his  essay  prepared  when  his  turn 
came  and  it  was  demanded  of  him,  was  asked  to 
resign.  The  subject  of  this  essay  was  "  Ghosts,"  and 
he  had  partly  finished  it,  but  unfortunately  only  part  of 
the  proem  remains.  Monckton  Milnes,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  only  elected  a  member  a  few  terms  before  he  went 
"  down."  Yet  these  two  did  much  to  bring  the  Society 
to  the  high  prominence  it  attained  during  the  early 
years  of  its  existence. 

Merivale  gives  a  quaint  picture  of  their  apostolic 
mission  : 

"  It  was  with  the  vague  idea  that  it  should  be  our 
function  to  interpret  the  oracles  of  transcendental 
wisdom  to  the  world  of  Philistines  or  Stumpfs,  as  we 
designated  them,  and  from  time  to  time  to  call  forth 
from  this  world  the  few  souls  who  might  be  found 
capable  of  sympathizing  with  them,  that  we  piqued 
ourselves  on  the  name  of  the  '  Apostles,'  a  name  given 


THE   ^^ APOSTLES"  ii 

us,  as  we  were  sometimes  told,  by  the  envious  and 
jeering  vulgar,  but  to  which  we  presumed  that  we  had 
a  legitimate  claim,  and  gladly  accepted  it.  We  Hved, 
in  constant  intercourse  with  one  another,  day  by  day, 
meeting  over  our  wine  or  our  tobacco,  but  every  Satur- 
day evening  we  held  a  more  solemn  meeting,  when 
each  member  of  the  Society,  about  twelve  in  number, 
delivered  an  essay  on  any  subject,  chosen  by  himself,  to 
be  discussed  and  submitted  to  the  vote  of  the  whole 
number.  Alas  !  alas  !  what  reckless,  joyous  evenings 
those  were,  what  solemn  things  were  said,  pipe  in  hand  ; 
how  much  serious  emotion  was  mingled  with  alternate 
bursts  of  laughter  ;  how  every  one  hit  his  neighbour 
intellectually,  right  and  left,  and  was  hit  again,  and  no 
mark  left  on  either  side  ;  how  much  sentiment  and 
how  much  humour  !  Who  is  the  poet  who  says,  and 
how  aptly  he  might  have  said  to  us  : 

Witty  as  youthful  poets  in  their  wine, 
Bold  as  a  centaur  at  a  feast,  and  kind 
As  virgins  that  were  ne'er  beguiled  with  love. 

The  style  of  our  lucubrations  may  be  illustrated  per- 
haps by  a  saying  of  one  of  our  profound  philosophers, 
Jack  Kemble  :  *  The  world  is  one  great  thought,  and 
I  am  thinking  it.'  " 

Regular  meetings  for  the  expression  of  definite 
thought  had  at  least  the  effect  of  helping  an  ''  Apostle  " 
to  "  see  himself."  The  effort  to  show  his  best  to 
anxious  adorers,  to  speak  his  soul  before  his  peers,  to 
shine  as  bright  as  other  stars,  were  acts  that  gave  the 
ablest  of  them  a  serene  confidence  in  himself  and  his 
own  genius.     It  is  scarcely  surprising  that  some  of 


12  THE  CAMBRIDGE   ''APOSTLES" 

them,  stimulated  by  such  surroundings,  nursed  on 
such  applause,  should  afterwards  have  come  to  look 
the  whole  world  calmly  in  the  face — and  even  to  have 
dared  to  play  with  it. 

Monckton  Milnes  once  wrote  :  "  We  have  had  some 
capital  debates  in  our  Society  called  '  The  Apostles,' 
we  attacked  Paley  last  night."  But  that  subjects  were 
not  always  so  stiff  as  Paley  is  proved  by  Sir  James  Fitz- 
James  Stephen's  paper  entitled:  ''Is  a  little  know- 
ledge a  dangerous  thing  ?  "  And  that  the  manners 
of  the  "  Apostles  "  were  not  always  dignified  and 
reposeful  is  proved  by  the  following :  "  Last  Saturday 
we  had  an  '  Apostolic '  dinner  .  .  .  most  of  them 
stayed  till  past  two.  John  Heath  volunteered  a  song  : 
Kemble  got  into  a  passion  about  nothing,  but  quickly 
jumped  out  again  :  and  Thompson  poured  large  quan- 
tities of  salt  upon  Douglas  Heath's  head,  because  he 
talked  nonsense." 

"  Apostleship  "  did  not  end  with  college  life,  and 
members  resident  or  visiting  Cambridge  could,  by 
giving  notice  to  the  host  of  the  evening,  attend  a  meet- 
ing of  the  younger  men  ;  and  this  they  often  elected 
to  do.  The  particular  "  Apostles  "  dealt  with  in  this 
volume  all  took  in  after  life  every  opportunity  for 
meeting  their  old  fellow  "  Apostles  "  in  the  company 
of  the  new.  They  never  relaxed  their  affection  for  the 
Society ;  to  their  last  days  "  its  membership  constituted 
a  bond  of  friendship  which  revived  in  them  the  fresh- 
ness of  youth."  Many  were  the  occasions  when  they 
brought  the  tale  of  their  newest  success  and  latest 


THE   '^APOSTLES"  13 

laurels  to  add  interest  to  the  many  interests  that  met 
together  at  the  yearly  "  Apostolic  "  dinner  ;  a  festival 
held  for  years  at  the  Star  and  Garter,  Richmond. 
With  old  "  Apostles  "  only  the  most  imperative  calls 
prevented  their  assisting,  for  to  have  each  other's 
society  in  convivial  intercourse  was  part  and  parcel  of 
the  scheme  of  life  laid  in  early  college  days. 

"  Kemble,  Sterling,  the  two  BuUers  and  all  the  stars 
of  the  first  magnitude  are  announced  as  having  pro- 
mised to  shine."  This  was  at  a  meeting  at  the  Free- 
mason's Tavern,  another  haunt  of  the  "  Apostles." 
It  was  at  this  feast  they  had  the  **  inadequate  conso- 
lation "  of  drinking  the  healths  of  those  forced  to  be 
absent.  It  was  Sterling  who,  at  another  merry  meal, 
gave  "  a  melancholy  account  of  the  coldness  produced 
at  Trinity  by  the  late  controversy."  This  when  a  war 
was  waging  concerning  the  question  of  admitting  Dis- 
senters to  university  degrees,  and  when  fears  had  been 
expressed  in  Parliament  as  to  the  effect  of  free 
theological  discussion  amongst  undergraduates — and 
comment  had  been  made  upon  the  meetings  and  the 
freedom  of  speech  of  the  ''  Apostles." 

But  witty  Connop  Thirlwall,  then  a  tutor,  on 
that  occasion  took  up  the  cudgels  for  his  fellow 
"  Apostles "  and  spoke  eloquently  in  their  favour, 
saying  : 

"  You  may  be  alarmed  when  I  inform  you  that  there 
has  long  existed  in  this  place  a  society  of  young  men — 
limited,  indeed,  in  numbers,  but  continually  receiving 


14  THE   CAMBRIDGE   '^  APOSTLES" 

new  members  to  supply  its  vacancies,  and  selecting 
them  in  preference  amongst  the  youngest,  in  which  all 
subjects  of  highest  interest,  without  any  exclusion  of 
those  connected  with  religion  are  discussed  with  the 
most  perfect  freedom.  But,  if  this  fact  is  new  to  you, 
let  me  instantly  dispel  any  apprehension  it  may  excite 
by  assuring  you  that  the  members  of  this  society,  for 
the  most  part,  have  been  and  are  amongst  the  choicest 
ornaments  of  the  University,  and  that  some  are  now 
among  the  ornaments  of  the  Church,  and  that  so  far 
from  having  had  their  affections  embittered,  their 
friendships  torn  and  lacerated,  their  union  has  been 
rather  one  of  brothers  than  of  friends." 

For  this  he  was  called  upon  to  resign  his  tutorship, 
but  a  living  was  given  him,  and  he  went  away  with  the 
applause  of  the  University  and  the  love  of  the  "  Apos- 
tles," and  afterwards  became  Bishop  of  St.  David's. 

It  was  an  age  of  early  development  and  of  early  per- 
fection, and  some  of  the  "  Apostles  " — all  of  them 
workers — accomplished  their  best  work  in  those  Cam- 
bridge days.  When  The  AthencBum  fell  into  the  hands 
of  Sterling  and  Maurice  it  was  produced  almost  en- 
tirely by  the  "  Society,"  but  the  material  with  which 
they  then  filled  its  pages,  and  which  reads  so  well  to- 
day— failed  in  its  own  time  to  interest.  Trench  said 
of  the  paper  : 

"  Should  it  obtain  an  extensive  circulation,  it  is 
calculated  to  do  much  good.  It  is  a  paper  not  merely 
of  principle,  but  what  is  almost  equally  important,  of 
principles — certain  fixed  rules  to  which  compositions 
are  referred,  and  by  which  they  are  judged.     In  this  it 


THE   '^ APOSTLES"  15 

is  superior,  not  merely  to  contemporary  papers,  but  to 
the  Reviews  of  the  highest  pretension." 

There  were  always  those  who  gently  scoffed  at  what 
was  deemed  the  "  pretensions  "  of  the  "  Apostles/'  and 
the  scoffers  were  sometimes  of  themselves.  Merivale, 
one  of  the  breeziest  of  their  critics,  says  humorously  : 

"  Monteith  and  Garden  are  indignant  and  wild  at 
being  forbidden  by  their  governors,  who  appear  to  be 
as  identical  as  they  are  themselves,  to  go  abroad.  I 
leave  them  each  writing  a  letter  in  his  respective  style. 
How  inconsistent  with  themselves  are  Human  facul- 
ties !  The  genius  that  can  presage  the  fulfilment  of  the 
Apocalypse  overlooks  the  specks  and  motes  in  futurity, 
and  is  taken  by  surprise  by  a  paternal  admonition." 

These  letters,  however,  had  the  effect  of  procuring  for 
the  two  "  identicals  "  the  desired  tour  ;  a  tour  which 
took  the  usual  "  ApostoHc  "  form  of  a  pilgrimage  to 
Venice,  and  a  romantic  lingering  beneath  the  windows 
of  a  palace  in  the  hope  of  seeing  some  philosophical 
metaphysical  maniac  such  as  he  of  whom  the  poet 
Shelley  wrote  in  Julian  and  Maddalo. 

Sometimes  "  Apostles "  were  scorned  by  men  of 
genius  as  great  as  their  own,  men  who  afterwards  came 
to  the  front  and  stayed  there  ;  and  there  were  even 
those  who  attacked  them,  and  one  of  themselves — 
who  shall  be  nameless — who  sought  to  "  betray  them," 
and  by  his  conduct  caused  commotion  and  emotion. 
"  A  Judas,"  he  was  termed,  "  who  could  not  or  would 
not  understand  the  principles  on  which  the  Society  was 
based," 


i6  THE   CAMBRIDGE   '^APOSTLES" 

But  trivial  assaults  the  "  Apostles  "  could  afford  to 
ignore,  for  if  they  had  detractors,  they  had  also  ad- 
mirers and  imitators.  W.  E.  Gladstone  founded  an 
Essay  Club  at  Oxford  on  the  model  of  the  "  Apostles  " 
and  boasted  of  it — though  he  owned  it  never  quite 
satisfied  him.  "  The  Apostles/'  he  said,  "  are  a  much 
more  general  society."  Blakesley  leaves  it  recorded 
that  it  was  Arthur  Hallam  who  founded  this  Club,  and 
he  probably  thought  this  because  Hallam  had  given 
Gladstone  help  in  the  drawing  up  of  its  rules.  "  The 
Sterling"  was  certainly  inspired  by  the  "Apostles," 
as  were  numerous  other  societies ;  and,  indirectly,  the 
London  Library,  an  institution  of  an  entirely  different 
kind,  grew  out  of  it. 

It  was,  however,  close  brotherhood,  and  not  society- 
making  which  the  "  Apostles  "  strove  to  attain,  and 
that  which  they  successfully  achieved — the  affectionate 
bond  between  them  being  strengthened,  not  only  by 
the  frequency  and  fervency  with  which  they  encour- 
aged each  other  in  their  work,  but  by  the  perseverance 
with  which  they  advertised  that  work  when  done. 
They  were  in  all  cases  the  first  and  strongest  champions 
of  each  other's  claims  to  pubhc  attention,  and  their 
mutual  assistance  and  admiration  were  reckoned  to 
have  been  "  stimulating  to  them  in  youth  and  advan- 
tageous to  them  in  manhood." 

Almost  without  exception  their  joyous  anticipations 
for  each  other's  future  were  fulfilled,  and  the  friendship 
which  commenced  in  the  bud  and  flourished  in  the 
flower  withered  only  with  death. 


THE   ^'APOSTLES"  17 

"  Those  Cambridge  *  Apostles  '  of  whom  Brookfield 
was  one,"  said  Kingiake  (but  here  he  was  mistaken. 
Brookfield  was  in  the  habit  of  saying,  '*  I  was  an 
acting  Apostle,  though  never  rated  as  one  on  the 
ship's  books")  "and  with  whom  he  lived  a  great 
deal,  were  all  of  them  men  highly  gifted,  and 
Brookfield  was  still  closely  associated  with  several  of 
their  number  when  at  length,  after  a  few  years  of 
conflict,  they  forced  their  opinions,  their  tastes  and 
their  crotchets  upon  a  puzzled  and  reluctant  world. 
Thenceforth  it  happened,  from  time  to  time,  that  some 
modest  '  Apostle  '  woke  up  and  found  himself  famous, 
and  great  was  then  Brookfield' s  delight  ;  but  he 
always  repudiated  the  notion  that  any  of  '  the  initiated ' 
should  allow  the  least  feehng  of  surprise  ta  mingle  with 
their  joy,  saying  proudly  and  exultingly  :  '  As  if  we 
did  not  know  that  this  would  come  !  '  " 

With  close  friendship  and  tried  brotherhood  came  a 
laudable  wish  to  right  all  wrong.  As  an  example  of 
spontaneous  charity  and  a  picture  of  unbounded  en- 
thusiasm, the  conduct  of  the  ''  Apostles  "  who  took 
part  in  the  Spanish  business  of  1823-30,^  stands  unique  ; 
for  neither  personal  ambition  nor  profit  were  con- 
cerned. The  young  men  were  sure  that  their  heroes 
were  oppressed,  and  wrongfully,  and  that  was  enough. 
They  offered  their  goods — in  some  cases  their  lives — to 
the  cause,  and  lost  the  former,  and  were  prepared  to 
lose  the  latter,  without  a  murmur.  Nothing  came  of 
this  their  great  romantic  effort,  but  it  was  a  brilliant 
failure — as  much  to  the  credit  of  those  young  men  as 

1  See  Chap.  XIII. 
(a-2318) 


i8  THE    CAMBRIDGE    ''APOSTLES" 

many  of  their  dazzling  achievements.  It  also  sheds 
light  upon  the  whole  "  Apostolate  "— it  shows  they 
had  hearts  as  well  as  heads,  and  that  "  free  discussion  " 
in  their  case  had  in  no  way  narrowed  their  wide 
sympathies. 

Monckton  Milnes,  (Lord  Houghton),  who  was  as  proud 
of  being  an  ''  Apostle  "  as  he  was  of  being  an  Enghsh 
gentleman,  at  an  inaugural  address  at  the  opening  of 
the  new  Union  at  Trinity  in  '66,  spoke  enthusiastically 
and  admiringly  of  the  friends,  contemporaries  of  his 
own,  who  had  tested  their  powers  in  the  old  debating 
club;  these  old  friends  being,  strangely  enough,  all  of 
them  with  the  exception  of  Kinglake,  ''Apostles." 
His  Lordship  said  with  feeling  : 

"  Charles  Buller,  whose  young  statesmanship  you 
will  find  recorded  in  Westminster  Abbey,  but  whose 
charm  of  character  and  talent  belong  to  the  domain  of 
personal  regard,  and  John  Sterling,  whose  tumultuous 
spirit  and  lofty  character  still  five— and  will  long  live 
in  the  biographies  of  Hare  and  Carlyle.  My  lot  was 
cast  with  a  somewhat  later  generation.  ...  I  believe 
that  the  members  of  that  generation  were  for  the 
wealth  of  their  promise— a  promise  in  most  cases 
perfectly  fulfilled— a  rare  body  of  men,  such  as  this 
University  has  seldom  contained.  .  .  . 

"  There  was  Tennyson,  the  Laureate,  whose  goodly 
bay  tree  decorates  our  language  and  our  land.  Arthur 
Hallam,  the  subject  of  In  Memoriam,  the  poet  and  his 
friend  passing  hnked  hand  in  hand  together  down  the 
slopes  of  fame.  There  was  Trench,  the  present  Arch- 
bishop of  Dublin,  and  Alford,  Dean  of  Canterbury, 


THE    "APOSTLES"  19 

both  profound  Scriptural  philologists,  who  have  not 
disdained  the  secular  muse. 

"  There  was  Spedding,  who  has,  by  a  philosophical 
affinity,  devoted  the  whole  of  his  valuable  life  to  the 
rehabilitation  of  the  character  of  Lord  Bacon — and 
there  was  Merivale,  who,  I  hope,  by  some  attraction 
of  repulsion,  has  devoted  so  much  learning  to  the 
vindication  of  the  Caesars.  There  were  Kemble  and 
Kinglake,  the  historian  of  our  earliest  civilization  and 
our  latest  war — Kemble,  as  interesting  an  individual 
as  ever  was  portrayed  by  the  dramatic  genius  of  his 
own  race  ;  Kinglake,  as  bold  a  man  at  arms  in  litera- 
ture as  ever  confronted  public  opinion.  There  was 
Venables,  whose  admirable  writings,  unfortunately 
anonymous,  we  are  reading  every  day  without  knowing 
to  whom  to  attribute  them  ;  and  there  was  Blakesley, 
Honorary  Canon  of  Canterbury,  the  '  Hertfordshire 
Incumbent '  of  the  Times.  There  were  sons  of  families 
which  seemed  to  have  a  hereditary  right  to,  a  sort  of 
habit  of,  academic  distinction,  like  the  Heaths  and  the 
Lushingtons.  But  I  must  check  this  throng  of  advanc- 
ing memories,  and  I  will  pass  from  this  point  with  the 
mention  of  two  names  which  you  will  not  let  me  omit 
— one  of  them,  that  of  your  Professor  of  Greek,  whom 
it  is  to  the  honour  of  Her  Majesty's  late  Government 
to  have  made  Master  of  Trinity — Thompson  ;  and  the 
other,  that  of  your  latest  Professor,  F.  D.  Maurice, 
in  whom  you  will  all  soon  recognize  the  true  enthusiasm 
of  humanity." 


CHAPTER  II 

WILLIAM    HENRY    BROOKFIELD 

Brooks,  for  they  called  you  so  that  knew  you  best, 
Old  Brooks,  who  loved  so  well  to  mouth  my  rhymes, 
How  oft  we  two  have  heard  St.  Mary's  chimes  ! 
How  oft  the  Cantab  supper,  host  and  guest. 
Would  echo  helpless  laughter  to  your  jest  ! 

(Tennyson) 

An  essentially  original  man,  William  Henry  Brookfield, 
"the  friend  of  the  Apostles,"  did  nothing  common- 
place. When  he  entered  Trinity  College,  Cambridge, 
in  the  autumn  of  1829,  it  was  as  a  sizar  in  the 
days  when  the  sizar  was  as  Bulwer  Lytton  describes 
him  in  the  play  of  Money.  Having  sacrificed  his 
''  articles,"  which  had  cost  his  parents  some  hun- 
dreds of  pounds,  and  having  turned  his  back  upon 
the  profession  chosen  for  him,  he,  in  extenuation, 
thought  thus  to  save  their  purse ;  and  they.  Spartan 
parents  of  the  period,  who  expected  impUcit  obedience, 
sternly  allowed  him  for  a  term  to  remain  in  that 
position  ;  afterwards  they  placed  him  in  the  College 
on  a  proper  footing. 

He  was  just  twenty  when  he  went  up,   and  though 
he  began  his  Cambridge  career  later  than  most  of 


WILLIAM    HENRY    BROOKFIELD  21 

the  wonderful  men  whose  happy  companion  he  so 
soon  became,  he  was  about  the  same  age  as  they, 
he  and  Tennyson  having  been  born  in  the  same  month 
of  the  same  year  and  almost  on  the  same  day — the 
others  only  differing  by  a  month  or  so. 

Shortly  after  his  arrival  he  was  introduced  by  a 
friend  of  his  family  to  Monckton  Milnes  and  Robert 
Monteith,  and  these  discovering  immediately  his  pecu- 
Har  merits,  handed  him  on  to  their  friends,  who  accepted 
him  with  an  enthusiasm  as  warm  as  their  own.  True, 
it  was  the  age  of  enthusiasm,  but  few  were  greeted 
in  so  flattering  a  fashion.  Men  of  the  highest  abiHty 
and  most  striking  intellect  in  the  University  sought 
him  out  and  at  once  became  his  intimates  ;  it  soon 
was  considered  a  privilege  to  be  seen  walking  and 
talking  with  him  ;  and  the  young  man  never  ceased 
to  remember  with  gratitude  his  hearty  reception  into 
the  best  society  that  Cambridge  contained.  His 
charming  manners  and  handsome  appearance  never 
failed  to  make  an  excellent  first  impression,  which 
was  always  subsequently  strengthened  by  his  wit, 
good  sense,  and  higher  quahties. 

Although  he  cut,  perhaps,  no  deep  flutes  on  the 
pillars  of  time,  he  inspired,  cheered  and  stimulated 
more  ambitious  friends,  who  afterwards  achieved 
both  name  and  fame  ;  friends  happy  to  know  they 
had  him  to  go  to  in  joy  and  in  sorrow  ;  happy  that  he 
was  to  be  found  awaiting  them— with  unclouded 
brillancy  and  unaltered  affection. 

His  capacity  for  friendships  of   "  the  intellectual 


22  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

sort "  was  immense  ;  and  with  Arthur  Hallam— 
whose  close  companion  he  was  during  that  youth's  last 
year  of  college  hfe,  and  Alfred  Tennyson,  whose 
northern  nature  consorted  so  genially  with  his  own 
—he  almost  hved.  In  fact,  those  who  were  first 
attracted  by  his  indescribable  humour  and  poetical 
sensibihty,  were  those  whose  own  briUiancy  had 
secured  them  the  intellectual  distinction  to  which 
allusion  has  been  made  in  the  preceding  chapter— they 
were  the  ''  Apostles."  From  the  earhest  days  Brook- 
field  and  the  "  Society  "  coalesced  amiably  and  admir- 
ably. Others  not  ''Apostles,"  though  equally  dis- 
tinguished, also  showered  attention  upon  him,  amongst 
these  Thackeray  and  Kinglake,  whose  friendships 
with  him  continued  throughout  their  Hves  close  and 
cordial. 

Said  one  of  them  :  ''To  a  wonderful  extent  he 
knew  the  hearts  and  souls  and  minds  of  his  associates 
and  could  tell  beforehand  what  each  of  them  under 
given  conditions  would  be  hkely  to  do  and  to  say." 

Brookfield,  besides  his  ingenious  wit,  had  the  per- 
ception of  beauty  as  well  as  the  poetic  instinct  which 
ran  through  all  that  group,  and  which  seems  to  have 
been  a  particular  possession  of  the  time  ;  he  had  also 
an  inborn  spontaneous  humour  which  was  rare  even 
in  a  period  when  the  sense  of  it  was  more  than  usually 
acute,  and  when  there  were  never  so  many  exponents. 
In  his  rooms  the  fines  fleurs  met  and  talked,  argued 
and  criticised  with  the  enthusiasm  of  their  youth, 
and  an  extra  enthusiasm  brought  about  by  the  intel- 


WILLIAM    HENRY    BROOKFIELD  23 

lectual  movement  of  the  moment  ;  there  they  assem- 
bled and  sought  in  their  favourite  poet  for  profound 
philosophies  he  did  not  always  possess  ;  and  in  their 
philosopher  for  poetry  they  did  not  always  find. 
While  Brookfield  with  his  "  purHng  nonsense  "  would 
cap  and  crown  in  his  own  way  their  scholarly  decisions, 
criticising  too,  but,  in  his  turn,  seeking  for  individual 
quaintnesses — where  the  staider  minds  sought  deep 
and  occult  meaning.  By  day  and  by  night  they 
were  always  together,  on  the  freest  and  most  un- 
ceremonious of  terms — forming  their  futures  in 
those  golden  hours.  It  was  the  time  of  inspiration, 
the  influence  of  which  was  never  lost — and  which, 
when  the  time  came  for  disbanding  they  sighed  in 
speech  and  verse  to  have  to  leave  behind  them. 
Brookfield  was  the  confidant  and  intimate  of  all  the 
set.  To  him  they  went,  to  him  most  things  were 
referred  ;  his  personal  influence  was  great  over  every 
one  of  them,  and  so  great  that  Arthur  Hallam  once 
told  him  "  he  felt  when  seeing  him  daily  and  hourly, 
he  could  not  pursue  steadily  the  resolutions  he  had 
formed  about  work."  On  the  other  hand,  to  this 
genial,  if  somewhat  distracting  influence,  the  Hallams 
attributed  Arthur's  increased  cheerfulness  during  his 
last  year  at  Cambridge. 

Brookfield  occasionally  helped  Hallam  in  his  busi- 
ness affairs, and  even  interviewed  his  "  duns  "  for  him;  he 
read  all  his  work  as  he  did  it,  listened  to  all  the  emo- 
tions he  went  through,  and  late  at  night  would  sit  down 
to  copy  out  for  himself  in  order  to  hand  on  to  others 


24  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

whatever  of  poetry  had  issued  forth  from  any  of  "  his 
young  poets  "  during  the  day. 

The  closeness  of  Brookfield's  intimacy  with  Tenny- 
son and  Arthur  Hallam  led  to  visits  at  each  other's 
homes  during  holidays,  and  letters  to  each  other  when 
apart. 

Arthur  Hallam  once  wrote  to  him — 

"My  dear  Brookfield, — 

"  The  very  wretched  state  of  mind,  and  frequent 
touches  of  illness  I  have  had  since  I  saw  you,  must  be 
my  excuse,  if  you  need  one,  that  I  have  not  written 
to  you.  And  now  I  am  in  no  writing  mood  :  as  soon 
as  I  am  you  shall  hear  from  me.  What  is  the  use  then, 
you  will  very  naturally  ask,  of  making  you  pay  postage 
for  this  scrap  ?     It  is  as  follows.     I   have  received 

this  morning  a  dunning  letter  from  ,   for  nine 

pounds  odd,  which  I  have  owed  him  the  greater  part  of 
the  past  eternity.  I  suppose  I  forgot  to  mention  his 
name  to  you  among  the  others.  At  any  rate,  I  forgot 
whether  you  told  me  anything  about  him.  I  don't 
feel  as  if  I  have  had  a  receipt  from  the  snob,  so  I  fear 
it  must  be  a  true  bill.  In  case,  however,  you  should 
have  already  paid  it,  I  would  fain  know.  In  the  pro- 
bable event  that  you  can  give  no  such  favourable 
answer,  I  wish  you  would  put  on  your  very  blandest 

look  and  declare  to  Mr.  on  my  part,  that  my 

sorrow  to  hear  of  his  maltreatment  by  me  is  only 
equalled  by  my  surprise  ;  and  that  I  fully  thought 
he  had  been  paid  in  a  general  commission  to  pay 
entrusted  to  a  friend  (you  needn't  say  it  was  yourself 
unless  you  chuse) ;  that  I  should  be  much  obliged  to 
him  to  wait  rather  more  than  a  month  longer,  at 
which  time  I  shall  certainly  be  passing  through  Cam- 


WILLIAM    HENRY    BROOKFIELD  25 

bridge,  and  will  have  great  pleasure  in  paying  him. 
Should  this  not  serve,  put  on  another  bland  look, 
and  entreat  Garden  and  Monteith  to  take  between 
them  this  debt  on  their  hands,  and  they  shall  be  paid, 
without  fail,  this  summer.  Write  to  me  speedily 
and  tell  me  how  you  are,  and  whether  there  is  any 
chance  of  seeing  you. 

'^  Ever  your  affectionate  friend, 

''A.  H.  Hallam." 

Tennyson,  in  thanking  Brookfield  for  his  kindness 
to  a  member  of  the  Tennyson  family,  who  was 
under  medical  treatment  away  from  home,  said  he  was 
"  grateful  too,  for  the  most  definite  account  I  have 
received,  and  given  too,  in  such  a  tone  of  sympathy 
as  to  render  it  doubly  valuable.  You  have  my  thanks 
not  only  from  the  lips  but  from  the  heart."  In  the 
same  letter  the  poet  complained  "  my  pen  is  stabled, 
and  my  ink  is  as  thick  as  gruel." 

In  an  early  letter  to  Tennyson,  written  soon  after 
the  book  of  Poems  by  Two  Brothers  was  sent  the  round, 
Brookfield  shows  the  terms  he  was  on  with  the  poet, 
and  shows  too  that  he  knew  what  "  Alfred  "  most 
wished   to  hear — 

"  You  and  Rob  Montgomery  are  our  only  brewers 
now  !  A  propos  to  the  latter,  Jingling  James,  his 
namesake,  dined  with  us  last  week  And  now  for  a 
smack  of  Boswell. 

"  Brookfield  :  Glass  of  wine  after  your  fish  ?  Mont- 
gomery :  1  thank  you,  sir !  B.  :  Which  vegetable, 
sir  ?     M.  .•  A   potato,   if   you   please.     B.  :  Another, 


26  THE    CAMBRIDGE    ''APOSTLES" 

sir  ?  M.  :  That  will  do,  I  thank  you.  B.  :  Talking 
of  potatoes,  sir,  have  you  read  Alfred  Tennyson  ? 
M.  :  Only  in  the  reviews  yet,  but  there  are  two 
brothers,  aren't  there  ?  B.  :  Both  '  rather  pretty,' 
but  Alfred  alone  has  been  extracted  at  any  length 
in  the  reviews.  M.  :  He  has  very  wealthy  and 
luxurious  thought  and  great  beauty  of  expression, 
and  is  a  poet.  But  there  is  plenty  of  room  for  im- 
provement, and  I  would  have  it  so.  Your  trim  cor- 
rect yoimg  writers  seldom  turn  out  well.  A  young 
poet  should  have  a  great  deal  which  he  can  afford  to 
throw  away  as  he  gets  older.  Tennyson  can  afford 
this. 

"  I  sent  him  copies  of  both  you  and  Charles  yester- 
day, and  met  him  in  the  street  this  morning.  He 
said  he  was  going  out  of  town,  but  we  would  talk 
about  you  when  he  came  back  and  read  you.  '  I 
read,'  said  he,  '  twelve  of  the  sonnets  last  night,  which 
if  I  had  not  liked  them  better  than  other  sonnets  I 
could  not  have  done.  There  are  great  outbreaks  of 
poetry  in  them.'  Omitting  my  own  inter] ectional 
queries,  etc.,  which  leave  to  Jemmy's  remarks  an  over- 
pompous  connectedness  which  they  had  not  viva  voce, 
I  give  you  his  words  as  nearly  as  I  remember.  They 
are  not  important,  but  we  generally  wish  to  know 
what  is  said  of  us,  whether  trivial  or  not.  At  autopsy- 
chography  I  am  not  good,  if  I  had  any  idiopsychology 
to  autopsychographize.  I  am  just  about  as  happy 
as  a  fish,  neither  excited  by  mirth,  nor  depressed  by 
sadness.  The  Clerk's  letter  awoke  me  rather  this 
morning  ;  if  he  be  yet  with  you  tell  him  it  had  been 
good  service  to  have  done  so  two  months  earlier. 
Writing  from  Somersb}^  where  there  is  so  much  to 
prevent  one  from  thinking  of  any  place  else  was  cer- 
tainly a  meritorious  exertion,  and  it  has  brought  my 


WILLIAM    HENRY    BROOKFIELD         27 

pardon.  My  love  to  the  wretch,  and  let  him  know 
he  shall  expiate  his  neglect  by  silence  on  my  part, 
until  I  know  whether  his  address  be  your  house. 
Which  information  do  thou  give  me  in  a  day  or  two  ; 
and  tell  me  all  about  Frederick,  and  Charles.  From 
the  former  I  could  never  worm  a  letter  yet,  but  unless 
you  can  coax  so  much  of  him  without,  I  shall  perhaps 
make  one  more  effort  shortly.  My  kindest  regards 
to  all  your  family. 

"  Ever,  dearest  Alfred,  yours, 

''W.  H.  Brookfield. 
''  p.S. — I  wish  very  much  you  would  make  a  sonnet 
for  me  as  Hallam  once  did.  I  could  not  value  it  more, 
and  should  not  less,  than  his.  It  may  be  that  I  could 
not  make  a  more  boring  request.  But  I  will  incur 
nine  chances  of  vexing  you  and  thereby  myself  for 
the  sake  of  the  tenth  of  getting  what  I  want." 

Later  on  Tennyson  says  to  him— 

''  Hollo  !  Brooks,  Brooks  !  for  shame  !  What 
are  you  about  musing  and  brooding  yourself  out  of 
this  life  into  the  next  ?  Shake  yourself,  you  owl  o' 
the  turret,  you ;  come  forth  you  cat-a-mountain ; 
you  shall  chew  no  more  cud.  I  swear  by  Spedding's 
speech,  and  Hallam's  essay,  by  the  right  hand  of 
Tennant,  and  the  eyes  of  Thompson,  by  the  impetuous 
pomp  of  the  taller— and  the  voluptuous  quiverings 
of  the  eyeglass  of  the  smaller— Scotchman,  I  swear 
by  the  mildness  of  Heath  and  the  memory  of  Trench 
that  thou  shalt  chew  no  more  cud  ! 

I  have  been  and  still  continue  to  be  very  unwell. 
Brooks,  and  my  eyes  grow  daily  worse,  otherwise  you 
should  hear  oftener  from  me,  but  you  must  not  be 
suUen  and  fall  out  with  me,  and  abuse  me  in  public 


28  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

and  private,  because  I  am  sometimes  selfish  enough 
to  prefer  a  state  of  purbhndness  to  one  of  utter 
amaurosis  which  would  speedily  succeed  any  continuous 
exertion  of  that  sight  which  I  am  only  anxious  to  pre- 
serve in  order  that  I  may  look  upon  you  once  again — 
there  now,  the  sentiment  is  pretty,  tho'  it  be  clumsily 
worded.  I  have  told  you  the  truth  and  I  will  have 
no  more  growhng. 

''The  Spring  is  burgeoning  fast  about  us,  and  the 
crocus  pierces  thro'  the  dark  moist  moulds  hke  a 
tongue  of  flame.  You  came  to  see  us  when  there  was 
an  utter  dearth  of  all  beauty  in  holt  and  hill— perhaps 
we  may  see  you  sometime  in  the  summer  when  the 
shining  landskip  is 

"crisp  with  woods 
And  tufted  knolls  on  wavy  wolds, 

"  Thine,  dear  Brooks,  to  the  end  of  time, 

"A.  T. 
"  Remembrances  which  range  thro'  every  shade  of 
affectionate  feehng  according  to  the  original  constitu- 
tion, and  superinduced  habits  of  the  individuals,  from 
every  member  of  the  family." 

Brookfield  did  go  again,  in  summer  weather,  to 
Somersby,  and  at  a  time  when  Hallam  was  there  too— 
and  it  was  then  that  he  said,  as  Tennyson  who  was 
justifiably  proud  of  his  muscles  was  performing  some 
feat  of  strength,  ''It  is  not  fair,  Alfred,  that  you 
should  be  Hercules  as  well  as  Apollo." 

When  these  Cambridge  companions  at  last  set  forth 


WILLIAM    HENRY    BROOKFIELD  29 

on  their  several  roads  in  life,  Brookfield  noted  that 
his  most  frequent  and  fervent  correspondents  were 
"  Apostles/'  and  of  them  he  says,  ''  No  man  ever  had 
such  friends  as  I."  Not  only  did  he  remain  in  touch 
with  those  of  his  own  day,  but  he  allured  to  him  the 
eminent  ones  who  followed;  Lyttelton,  Harcourt, 
Stephen  Springvice,  Harry  Hallam,  etc.,  in  turn 
became  his  friends. 

In  1836,  Brookfield,  then  a  curate  at  Southampton, 
returned  to  Cambridge  in  order  to  take  his  M.A. 
degree.  For  one  reason  or  another  many  of  the  com- 
panions of  earlier  times  had  also  gathered  there ;  some 
of  them  engaged  upon  the  same  business  as  himself, 
some,  glad  to  be  there  upon  any  pretext,  while  others 
were  there  in  residence — "  reverend,  reserved,  sober 
dons."  Brookfield  no  sooner  returned  to  the  scene 
of  his  duties  than  Francis  Garden  wrote — 

"  A  clack  speek  has  been  gathering  in  the  Cambridge 
horizon  till  it  has  become  a  large  cloud  threatening 
soon  to  discharge  itself  upon  my  devoted  head  unless 
you  can  help  me  to  a  conductor— in  other  words, 
Heath  is  clamorous  for  the  Tennysonian  MSS.  I  left 
in  your  possession  at  M.A.  time.  For  any  sake  send 
them  to  him  or  to  me  if  you  have  got  them,  if  you 
have  not  tell  me  what  you  did  with  them.  Tennyson 
is  ready  to  swear  they  were  not  left  in  his  room. 
The  Heath  in  question  is  not  the  reahzation 
of  the  ideahzation,  but  the  brother  of  the  same,  the 
Rev.  J.  L.  Heath,  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  Are 
you  often  at  Botley  Hill  ?  I  hold  myself  absolved 
from  the  duty  of  writing  you  a  long  letter  because  I 


30  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

have  reasonable  prospects  of  seeing  you  soon,  namely, 
if  Trench  can  receive  me.  Pray  write  soon  to  me  anent 
the  book  or  else  send  it  direct  to  Heath  and  we  can 
talk  over  its  contents  when  we  meet,  which  we  cannot 
very  well  do  before.  I  propose  commencing  my 
pleasuring  in  about  a  week  or  ten  days,  or  if  Trench 
pleases  will  begin  with  him.  He  may  be  on  the  look- 
out for  a  letter  written  from  me  that  time,  if  he  cares 
to  have  one.     Tell  him," 

Trouble  was  a  word  unknown  to  this  set  of  friends, 
a  detour  of  sixty  or  one  hundred  miles  was  to  them  a 
pleasant  pastime  ;  no  journey  was  too  long  or  too 
fatiguing  which  brought  any  of  them  together  ;  to  be 
forced  to  travel  outside  a  coach  in  winter,  inside  in 
summer,  but  made  meeting  merrier  and  gave  oppor- 
tunity for  the  indulgence  of  the  graphic  detail  in  which 
they  all  delighted  and  indulged.  It  was  in  those  days 
that  they  strove  to  be  postman  one  to  the  other. 
Tennyson  or  Trench  would  arrive  at  Brookfield's 
lodgings  in  Southampton  (a  pied  a  terre  through  which 
most  of  the  "  Apostles  "  at  one  time  or  the  other  passed) 
or  at  his  home  near  Sheffield,  bearing  on  him  a  letter 
from  Blakesley  or  Kemble  or  others  ''  a  month  old," 
but  "  preferring  that  dehvery,"  and  would  themselves 
carry  away  his  reply  when  they  went,  in  order  to  give 
it  up  with  **  own  hands." 

What  caused  and  what  kept  up  the  attraction 
between  this  especial  and  wonderful  few  ?  It  did  not 
come  only  from  the  recognition  of  and  beHef  in  each 
other's  talents — for  their  gifts  were  so  sure  and  obvious 


WILLIAM    HENRY    BROOKFIELD  31 

that  they  were  lightly  esteemed ;  it  was,  most 
likely,  because  together  with  the  mental  briUiance  and 
physical  charm  which  they  all  of  them  possessed 
they  had  in  due  proportion  some  essence  peculiarly 
human  and  affectionate.  Then  again  there  was,  in 
those  days,  a  class  camaraderie  which  it  is  difficult  to 
describe  or  even  to  realize  in  these  times  when  class 
distinctions  have  ceased  to  exist.  However,  it  is 
obvious  that  a  similarity  of  experience  and  an  identity 
of  aim  brought  about  a  mutual  understanding  and 
sympathy  in  the  gentle  circles  of  the  early  Victorian  era 
which  could  not  exist  nowadays  when  ''  Society " 
is  a  junction  at  which  all  have  arrived  by  different 
routes  and  with  different  destinations. 

When  he  went  to  Cambridge  in  1840  to  assist  in 
Lord  Lyttelton's  candidature  for  the  High  Steward- 
ship, Brookfield  fell  again  upon  a  full  apostolic  band. 
Of  this  period  Dean  Merivale  says  : — 

"  Well — this  evening  a  small  barrel  of  concentrated 
essence  of  gunpowder  will  be  introduced  under  the 
Vice-Chancellor's  chair  ;  at  the  fatal  moment  Blakes- 
ley,  Brogden,  and  Kemble  will  form  a  train.  Brook- 
field  will  set  fire  to  Christie  and  apply  him  to  the  latter, 
and  up  we  shall  go  majority  and  minority — to  a  place 
where  Trinity  is  better  appreciated.  .  .  . 

"  We  consoled  ourselves  on  Thursday  night  with  a 
joyous  supper  at  my  rooms  embracing  Trench  and 
Brookfield,  Alfred,  Milnes,  H.  Lushington  e^'  «  ^ei6 
and  the  Cambridge  residents.  Kemble,  who  possesses 
the  rare  merit  of  being  equally  good,  absent  or  pre- 
sent, furnished  forth  a  large  portion  of  the  repast. 


32  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

Brookfield's  experiences  of  Calvinists,   and  Trench's 
self-rebuked  amusement  were  equally  edifying." 

Brookfield  had,  that  night,  rolled  off,  knowing  it 
would  amuse  his  companions,  a  description  of  his 
former  rector  at  Southampton  and  some  of  his  flock, 
impersonating  each  of  them  with  such  truth  and  spirit 
that  even  Trench,  who  maintained  that  mimicry  was 
a  weapon  to  be  feared,  and  not  a  toy  to  be  played  with, 
was  forced  into  merriment. 

A  shining  Hght  at  Cambridge,  a  beacon  at  South- 
ampton, Brookfield's  fame  as  a  preacher  preceded  him 
to  London,  where  popularity  and  success  were  his 
immediate  reward  ;  where  his  fellow  curates  told  him 
of  the  sensation  he  caused  ;  where  friends,  old  and 
new,  vied  in  proclaiming  his  eloquence.  Even  that 
element  of  fame,  the  anonymous  letter,  was  not  denied 
him  ;  and  a  well-known  curiosity  of  the  forties,  who 
called  himself  "  Shemaiah  the  Jew,"  addressed  him  as 
"  Wise  and  eloquent  in  your  instructions  the  Prophet 
marvelled  at  thee.     Minister  of  Promise,  Fear  not  !  " 

Lord  Lyttelton  told  him  "  he  had  never  heard  any 
one  so  easy,  almost  colloquial,  insomuch  that  there 
was  a  sort  of  temptation  to  forget  that  it  was  preaching 
and  get  up  and  answer  him.  He  also  told  me  that  I 
might  consider  my  fame  as  spread  over  the  four 
quarters — for  Lady  Jersey  was  there,  the  most  worldly 
woman,  and  greatest  rehgious  gossip  in  London,  and 
she  could  hardly  keep  her  seat  for  agitation.  .  .  . 
Nevertheless,  it  was  a  very  ineloquent  sermon,  \'ery 


WILLIAM    HENRY    BROOKFIELD         33 

hard,  and  chiefly  doctrinal.  Strange  how  worldly 
people  do  Hke  such  things."  In  those  days  he  would 
often  say,  ''  Preached  on  so  and  so — but  it  was  very 
Pill,"  but  Greville  in  his  diaries  records  :  "A  mag- 
nificent sermon  from  Brookfield.  He  is  one  of  the 
few  preachers  whose  sermons  never  weary  me,  how- 
ever long  .  .  .  and  the  elocution  perfect." 

Buller  and  Milnes  and  other  friends  resident  in 
London,  with  pleasant  memories  of  his  Cambridge 
sparkle  and  humour,  now  collected  about  him,  took 
him  out,  introduced  him,  and,  in  their  still  youthful 
ardour,  endeavoured  with  him  to  reconstruct  old 
times. 

'^  Breakfasted  with  Lyttelton,"  he  notes  ;  "  thence 
to  Milnes,  where  were  many  of  us — I  stopped  till  one. 
Oxford  and  Cambridge  Club  \vith  Chapman,  Milnes 
and  Spedding.  The  latter  and  I  dined  at  an  eating 
house  near  St.  James',  thence  to  Spedding's  rooms  to 
smoke.  The  two  Heaths  came  in,  and  some  Tenny- 
sons.  All  night  diverting  toothache  with  Carlyle's 
French  Revolution.'' 

With  no  delay  he  became  a  favoured  guest  at  all 
the  great  ''  Breakfasts  "  of  which  the  literary  ones 
were  Rogers',  Hallam's,  and  Milnes'. 

Of  his  second  visit  to  Rogers  he  wrote  in  his  diary — 

*'  To  Rogers  with  Milnes  to  breakfast.  Rogers  said, 
*  The  Queen  said,  when  somebody  condoled  that  she 
should  have  such  a  lot  of  business,  ''  If  I  were  not 
Queen,  I  should  like  to  be  minister."  '  She  is  a  very 
clever  girl  (though  I  never  heard  but  that  one  mot), 

3-(23i8) 


34  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

and  at  starting  was  far  ahead  of  other  girls  ;  but  thus 
she  will  stand  and  will  afterwards  be  surpassed.  Of 
Melbourne,  Rogers  said  that  he  was  an  upright, 
honourable,  well-meaning  man,  but  could  not  teach 
the  Queen  the  savoir  faire,  for  he  had  it  not  himself — 
would  sit  down  on  the  wrong  chair,  turn  his  back  when 
he  ought  not  to  do  so,  and  so  on;  that  the  Queen 
was  a  great  theologian,  could  pose  a  bishop,  and 
had  the  Fathers  in  her  bedroom.  Of  George  IV.  he 
said  he  was  a  dreadfully  coarse-tongued  man  ;  and 
somebody  (W.H.B.)  said  he  had  heard  he  could  not 
'  sustain  the  character  of  a  gentleman  so  long  as 
Macready.' 

"  Milnes  spoke  of  one  mth  an  exaggerated  reputation 
of  wit — it  was  said  he  was  very  modest.  *  What  has 
he  to  be  modest  of  ?  '  was  said  in  reply. 

Of  his  first  meeting  with  Carlyle  he  wrote  in  his 
letters  to  his  family  and  with  all  the  enthusiasm  of 
his  nature,  but  in  his  diary  he  only  records — 

"  Called  on  Milnes.  Carlyle  came  in.  We  all  then 
called  on  Rogers.  Carlyle' s  '  English  with  the  meat 
blown  out  of  it,'  was  good  applied  to  Puseyism,  and 
tremendously  good  was  his  account  of  having  been  on 
a  jury  lately.' y  I  liked  his  '  The  Queen  is  like  a  canary 
bird  looking  out  on  a  tempest.'  Afterwards  to 
Spedding's,  where  were  Thompson  and  others." 

Occasionally  he  and  his  friends  would  live  over  again 
with  renewed  fervour  their  "  golden  Cambridge  days 
and  nights  " — 

*'  I  hied  me  to  Lushington's,  where  were  Edmund 
Lushington,    Frank   Lushington,    Henry   Lushington, 


WILLIAM    HENRY    BROOKFIELD  35 

Tennyson,  Milnes,  Monteith,  Spedding,  Venables.  I 
breakfasted  next  morn  with  Rogers,  Smith,  Milnes, 
Thirlwall,  Spedding  and  Gladstone."  A  brilliant 
company  indeed  to  be  collected  at  one  table  !  It 
was   at   this   meal   that  Sydney   Smith   said   of   the 

Bishop  of ,  ''He  is  so  Hke  Judas  Iscariot  that  I 

now  firmly  beheve  in  the  ApostoHcal  Succession." 

He  used  to  dine  in  the  city  with  a  great  giver  of 
dinners  and  a  very  pleasant  person,  a  Mr.  Pawles. 

"  I  dined,  as  you  ingeniously  surmised  last  night,  at 
Mr.  Pawles'.  There  was  present  Warren,  the  author 
of  Diary  of  a  late  Physician.  I  never  was  more  bored 
than  by  his  eternal  volubility,  unsignahzed  by  one 
syllable  of  wit,  mere  volubiHty — chiefly  about  him- 
self, perpetual  allusions  to  his  literary  habits — good- 
natured  withal,  but  so  terribly  conscious  of  being  a 
bit  of  a  Hon,  and  at  the  same  time  in  all  his  eternal 
talk  not  saying  a  thing  that  could  justify  his  claim  to 
being  called  one.  May  I  never  again  meet  a  small 
self-conscious  literary  hon." 

If  Brookfield  at  that  time  called  on  one  "  Apostle  " 
he  would  be  sure  to  find  another  present,  while  others 
would  always  "  happen "  to  join  them ;  then  to- 
gether, in  a  troop,  they  would  go  to  his  rooms  to  "  tea 
and  anchovies,"  Cambridge  fashion.  Marriage  made 
little  difference  in  these  customs  ;  when  "  Apostles  " 
were  in  London  or  when  they  passed  through,  they 
would  assemble  at  his  house,  and  "  vastly  pleasant  " 
were  the  meetings.  Thackeray  would  come  in  "  after 
everybody  else   had    gone,"   and  stay  far    into  the 


36  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

night.  Milnes,  Tennyson,  Venables,  Garden,  Meri- 
vale  and  Spedding  would  collect  each  other  and 
descend  upon  him.  "  To-night  they  rose  and  made  a 
row  when  I  entered,  which  vexed  the  soul  of  Garden. 
Exceedingly  pleasant." 

Brookfield  was,  early  in  his  career,  elected  a  member 
of  the  Sterhng  Club,  which  being  composed  principally 
of  Cambridge  "  Apostles  "  made  another  pleasant  ren- 
dezvous for  himself  and  friends.  After  a  "  Sterhng  " 
one  night,  he  "  proposed  to  Thackeray  and  Kinglake  to 
invade  Spedding's,"  and  after  some  time  spent  there, 
went  "  thence  to  Venables,"  with  whom  I  sate  tete-d- 
tete  the  rest  of  the  night  discussing  many  things.  To- 
day cahed  on  the  Bullers,  walked  with  Charles  Buller. 
called  on  Ludlows." 

People  then  made  parties  in  order  that  the  men  of  this 
particular  group  might  meet  together — certain  that 
if  they  collected  only  two  or  three  of  them  their  assem- 
bly must  be  interesting,  gay  and  cheerful.  Monckton 
Milnes  would  get,  whenever  he  could,  Brookfield  and 
Thirlwall  for  his  greatest  occasions  ;  for  no  one  better 
than  he  appreciated  the  value  of  those  most  brilliant 
talkers. 

First  in  the  ranks  of  conversationalists,  people  who 
met  Brookfield  never  forgot  him,  5/et  they  confessed 
they  could  never  adequately  describe  the  genius 
"  which  got  humorous  dehght  out  of  every  incident, 
even  the  commonest."  He  had  a  cultivated  and  melan- 
choly voice,  and  often  when  the  whole  room  was  laugh- 
ing at  his  salhes,  his  would  be  the  only  grave  face  in  it. 


WILLIAM    HENRY    BROOKFIELD  37 

From  his  letter  writing  it  is  not  easy  to  see  why 
he  gave  up  his  earhest  love,  "  a  hterary  hfe  ;"  his  mat- 
ter is  generally  good,  his  descriptions  vivid,  his  style 
strong  and  original  ;  but  clerical  duties  over,  his  time 
was  invariably  occupied  with  society.  Of  a  sociable 
nature,  he  would  leave  whatever  he  was  employed 
upon  with  httle  reluctance  if  his  interrupters  were  to 
his  liking,  and  he  said  to  his  bride  during  one  of  their 
short  separations  :  "  I  have  been  broken  in  upon  by 
Milnes  and  Tennyson  and  Monteith  (my  Emma's, 
Ada's  and  Ceciha's)  who  have  staid  two  hours  and  now 
take  me  out  with  them."  People  said  sometimes  it 
was  of  no  use  "  asking  Brookfield  into  the  dull 
country,  for  there  he  would  sigh  for  genius,  wits, 
souls,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing,"  and  once  his 
wife  wrote :  "  L.  would  send  her  love,  if  you 
would  accept  it  from  one  who  is  not  clever  ;  she 
alludes  to  the  new  accusation  that  you  only  patronize 
clever  people."  It  was  not  that  he  sought  out  the 
great  and  famous  but  that  they  sought  out  him  and 
encouraged  him  to  be  thoroughly  at  home  and  on 
easy  terms  with  them.  And  he  in  turn  appreciated 
the  high  honour  and  favour  which  his  talents 
attracted. 

Brookfield  went  once  with  Venables,  Tennyson,  and 
Lushington  to  some  pubHc  meeting  "  governmental, 
and  gratuitous."  There  was  a  great  crowd,  and  as 
only  a  limited  number  could  be  let  in  at  one  time,  the 
iron  grating  was  shut  in  their  faces.  Brookfield  on 
this  whispered  through  the  railings  to  the  official  in 


38  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

charge  :  "  You  had  better  let  us  in;  we  are  friends  of 
the  celebrated  Mr.  Brookfield/'  upon  which  came, 
"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  and  at  once,  to  the 
amusement  of  his  companions,  the  gate  opened,  and 
they  were  admitted.  About  this  story  he  would  say 
when  telhng  it,  ''  The  only  joke  was  that  nobody  at 
the  time  was  more  entirely  unknown  than  I."  They 
had  the  pretty  habit  of  returning  each  other's 
visits  on  the  same  day,  or  at  latest,  the  following — a 
fact  which  displays  their  sure  and  rock-like  friendship 
as  clearly  as  it  reveals  their  own  belief  in  their  own 
powers  to  please. 

People  continued  to  praise  his  preaching,  as  indeed 
they  did  his  whole  life  through,  and  we  hear  :  "  This 
morning  Andrewes  (clerk  in  orders.  Chaplain  to  House 
of  Commons,  son  of  the  late  Rector,  who  was  also 
Dean  of  Canterbury)  told  me  also  that  he  had  heard 
a  great  deal  of  the  '  sensation  '  I  made  yesterday 
morning  at  York  Street,  that  I  had  got  great  '  Kudos  ' 
(Greek  for  praise),  and  a  person  had  observed  to  him 
that  '  you  may  depend  upon  it  he  is  a  ver}^  superior 
young  man,  and  does  not  seem  chuck  (Andrewes' 
word  for  conceited)  of  it  either,'  to  which  the  latter 
assented.  It  is  not  the  first  time  I  have  received  a 
compliment — but  the  first  time  that  it  has  been  enhanced 
by  the  addition  of  unchuckiness.  I  fear  that  after  the 
last  page  and  half  you  will  not  be  able  to  assent  to  the 
remark  of  Andrewes'  friend.  Did  I  tell  you  that 
Milnes  told  me  that  somebody  (who  had  heard  me  at 
York  Street)  had  remarked  to  him  that  he  should  like 


WILLIAM    HENRY    BROOKFIELD  39 

very  much  to  see  me  in  Hamlet — not  knowing  that  I 
was  rather  Shakesperianly  addicted.  I  am  sorry  I 
have  no  amusing  anecdote  for  you,  or  letters — ^Alfred's 
is  very  amusing.  I  will  take  care  of  it.  The  only 
recordable  thing  said  after  Mrs.  O.'s  departure  was 
'  Well,  I  have  run  away  with  many  a  plainer  woman 
than  that.'     I  need  not  tell  you  who  said  it." 

So  much  work  was  being  produced  by  apostolic 
friends  that  there  was  the  constant  excitement  of 
passing  it  around  for  approbation  and  criticism  ;  and 
Brookfield  would  unflinchingly  give  his  opinion  of 
the  structure  of  Spedding's  "  Bacon,"  and  the  music  of 
"  Alfred's  "  verse.  As  one  of  them  said  to  the  other  : 
"  We  all  send  out  samples  of  our  minds  as  grocers  do 
sugars."  But  there  was  nothing  narrow  about  them; 
whatever  their  own  sentiments  and  convictions  they 
could  all  bear  to  hear  their  efforts  discussed  and  could 
listen  with  patience  to  the  opinions  of  others.  When 
they  did  not  meet  they  wrote  :  ''A  letter  from 
Venables,  very  droll."  "A  delightful  letter  from 
dear  old  Spedding,"  and,  as  above,  "  Alfred's  is  very 
amusing." 

Brookfield  could  not  get  on  with  unhumorous 
people ;  knowing  his  own  gift  he  made  a  study  of  the 
subject.  Once  he  embarked  on  an  endeavour  to  get 
material  together  for  a  book  which  should  illustrate 
the  difference  between  wit  and  humour,  a  subject  which 
however  he  found  so  varying  and  so  vast  that  he  wisely 
gave  it  up.     With  his  usual  frankness  he  records— 

"  I  had  lots  of  funny  things  to  say  and  that  I  kept 


40  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

laughing  at  (why  a  man  should  not  laugh  at  his  own 
jokes  I  cannot  tell),  but  they  are  all  gone  out  of  my 
head.  '  I  am  sorry  for  you/  as  the  Preacher  said 
who  had  forgotten  his  sermon — *  You  have  lost  an 
excellent  discourse '";  and  again — "  The  mots  were  not 
worth  recording,  though  explosively  laughable.  It  is 
difficult  to  record  things  that  depend  chiefly  on  their 
absurdity  for  their  humour,  and  it  is  perhaps  not  an 
unfair  test  of  wit  whether  it  will  bear  writing  or  not." 
*'  In  irresistible  humour  none  of  the  '  Apostles  '  rivalled 
Brookfield,"  said  Venables.  "  He  had  infinite  humour 
—but  humour  resulting— hke  Shakespeare's— from 
mastering  of  human  characters,  and  not  from  any 
love  of  mere  shallow,  mindless  drollery,"  said  Kinglake. 
.  .  .  '^  1  never  heard  him  say  a  bitter  thing."  No  one 
knew  better  than  he  the  value  of  this  virtue  in  smooth- 
ing over  the  carks  of  e very-day  existence.  Once  when 
he  had  forgotten  to  be  in  the  vestry  at  St.  James', 
Piccadilly,  at  a  time  appointed,  he  says,  "  I  covered 
my  shame  with  the  fig-leaf  of  a  humorous  note  and 
am  now  once  more  a  punctual  man." 

Of  Lord  — -,  Brookfield  said  :  ''  He  is  so  addicted 
to  magnification  of  anything  he  is  connected  with  that 
he  could  not  tell  you  he  had  eaten  a  '  Captain's  ' 
biscuit,  but  it  would  become  an  '  Admiral's.'  " 

A  pleasant  feature  connected  with  the  wit  of  that 
period  is  that  the  most  of  it  was  amiable  ;  most  of  the 
popular  wits  being  accompHshed  enough  and  good- 
hearted  enough  to  be  able  to  link  bright  words  with 
kind  sentiments.     There  may  have  been  some  striv- 


WILLIAM  HENRY  BROOKFIELD  41 

ing  after  effect— but  they  could  be  grave  as  well  as 
gay.  Mr.  Brookfield  could,  between  two  brilliant 
stories,  tell  a  pathetic  one  ;  once  he  gave  a  touching 
description  of  a  poor  widow  woman,  with  five  children, 
and  failing  sight  which  prevented  her  from  performing 
her  daily  task.  "  What  work  !  "  he  said,  "  making 
two  pairs  of  soldiers'  trousers  every  day.  Twelve 
hours'  work  for  fivepence  !  "  This  outburst  at  a  grand 
party  was  very  telhng  ;  but  it  had  nothing  hke  the  effect 
which  his  ''I  beheve  in  God,  gentlemen,"  had  upon 
a  party  of  Freethinkers  who  in  the  midst  of  a  fire- 
work of  jokes,  began  to  give  the  reasons  for  their 
non-belief. 


CHAPTER    III 

THE  FRIEND   OF  THE    "  APOSTLES  " 

How  oft  with  him  we  paced  that  walk  of  limes. 
Him  the  lost  light  of  those  dawn  golden  times 
Who  loved  you  well ! 
"  You  man  of  humorous-melancholy  mark." 

(Tennyson.) 

Brookfield's  letters — and  he  was  a  great  letter 
writer — abound  in  observant  humour,  in  pictures  of 
people,  and  most  particularly  in  pictures  of  himself. 
It  was  not  that  he  went  through  any  very  ex- 
traordinary adventures,  nor  that  he  invented  thrill- 
ing or  amusing  incidents  which  had  not  really 
occurred  (except  when  he  did  so  avowedly).  But 
there  seemed  to  dwell  in  his  brain  a  myriad  of 
ingenious  and  active  gnomes  who  could,  in  a  few 
seconds,  so  fashion  and  display  whatever  his  eyes  and 
ears  brought  to  them,  that  what,  related  by  another, 
would  have  been  a  dull  and  commonplace  occurrence 
became,  when  told  by  him,  a  dramatic  incident  or 
a  side-splitting  situation. 

His  letters  to  his  friends  are  good  specimens  of  a 
good  style  ;  and  that  he  had  the  best  gift  of  the  best 
correspondents,  namely,  the  instinct  to  tell  that  which 
the  receiver  most  wishes  to  know,  is  evident. 


THE    FRIEND    OF    THE    "APOSTLES"      43 

To  his  betrothed  he  in  early  days  wrote— 

"  I  called  this  morning  at  67,  Wimpole  Street.  Had 
a  very  pleasant  half -hour  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  and  Miss 
Hallam.  They  seem  most  Hkely  to  go  and  see  you  at 
Southampton.  Thence  to  call  on  Lyttelton,  whose 
engagement  was  yesterday  announced — Miss  Glyn, 
Sir  Stephen's  daughter,  is  the  lady  ;  Mr.  Gladstone 
is  to  marry  another  sister.  Lyttelton  was  out,  doubt- 
less at  Miss  Glyn's  feet.  Next  I  went  to  Monteith's, 
dehghted  to  find  him  in,  but  packing  to  go  off  to 
Glasgow  to-night.  He  has  been,  I  believe,  a  sort  of 
semi-lion  this  season  and  very  much  hked.  I  am 
writing  in  his  company  now,  and  have  abandoned 
dinners  elsewhere  in  order  to  have  a  secluded  repast 
with  him  at  Dick's  in  Chancery  Lane.  I  could  quote 
lots  of  stuff  adjunct  to  dear  Hallam  if  I  had  time, 
but  I  have  not.  I  shall  go  to  Dick's  in  my  Beaver 
hat  and  Irish  linen  shirt — pophn  vest,  merino  trousers 
(which  are  cooler  than  other  trousers),  spun  silk  socks 
and  Abyssinian  boots.  Write  me  at  once  a  Hne  of 
your  scrambhng  nonsense." 

A  little  later  he  says— 

"  At  10  I  proceeded  to  Spedding's.  You  need  not 
be  rampageous  about  it,  for  I  took  neither  smoke  nor 
likker  (except  a  cup  of  tea),  and  at  11  walked  home 
with  Lord  L.  Yesterday  I  dined  at  Pawles'  {shorts, 
which  displayed  my  shapely  extremities  and  which 
passed  off  as  quietly  as  so  remarkable  an  outrage 
could;  they  were  not  produced  at  Mrs.  Romilly's 
nor  will  be  at  Lady  L.'s  to-night,  but  were  excusable 
in  the  city,  as  I  am  there  a  west-end  type  and  may 
typify  as  I  Hke).  I  sate  at  dinner  between  a  sillyish 
evangehcal  Manness  and  an  infinitely  silly  puseyite 


44  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

Mannikinetto.  My  goodness,  gracious,  mercy,  stars, 
wigs  !  I  talked  in  a  low  whisper  to  the  evan :  and 
cold  orthodoxy  to  the  puz  :— the  latter  boundlessly  the 
most  intolerable.  I  rather  ingratiated  myself  with 
Mrs.  P.  There  was  not  a  single  pretty  person  there, 
nor  at  the  E.  Romillys,  and  at  W.  Gladstone's,  where 
beauty  was  by  no  means  lacking,  I  could  not  help  think- 
ing of  old  Pepys  writing  down  in  cypher  he  thought  the 
world  would  never  penetrate  :  '  Altho'  her  Grace  and 
my  Lady  Castlemaine  were  there,  I  think  in  my  con- 
science that  my  wife  was  fairer  than  any  in  the  pre- 
sence.' Certainly  Bruce  is  prettier  than  any  in  the 
world,  and  Leth  than  Bruce,  and  my  wife  than  Leth— 
as  Jonathan  says,  '  The  British  bang  the  world,  and 
America  the  British.'  This  morning  I  have  break- 
fasted heartily  with  Venables  and  Lushington.  They 
had  been  at  Madame  Bunsen's  last  night,  and  Ven- 
ables in  his  serious  way  was  speculating  whether  when 
the  Duchess  of  Sutherland  got  home  from  the  same 
party  she  too  was  employed  like  them  in  getting  up  a 
faggot  and  blowing  up  a  fire  and  making  a  Httle  tea 
for  her  solace  at  three  in  the  morning.  The  men  at 
Spedding's  all  made  (as  they  generally  do)  assiduous 
inquiries  after  you.  I  see  no  reason  when  you  get 
back  against  your  joining  Spedding  and  the  rest  of  us 
on  our  Cloudy  Ida'* 

TravelHng  on  the  Continent  in  July,  '44— people  in 
those  days  seem  to  have  generally  chosen  the  heat  of 
the  summer  for  visiting  the  Riviera— he  sent  from 
Cannes  a  description  of  Lord  Brougham's  villa  there— 

"  It  is  a  very  small  box,  it  is  nothing  more  inside  or 
out  than  what  any  person  of  ;£i,ooo  a  year  might  have 
in  England,  but  you  must  add  to  the  supposed  villa  in 


THE    FRIEND    OF    THE    ''APOSTLES"      45 

England  rows  of  orange  trees,  olives,  looking  like  jolly 
willows  that  never  weep,  indeed  exactly  like  them  to 
a  superficial  eye,  both  in  form  and  in  leaf— the  leaf 
white   behind  in   the   same   way.     Oleanders,   vines, 
mulberries    and    the    blue    Mediterranean    stretched 
out    within    three    minutes'    walk.       I    think     this 
Cannes  country  house,  tho'  void  of  all  magnificence, 
in  size   and  quahty   not  unworthy    of   a  peer   tired 
to  death  of  kicking  up  rows  in  the  House  of  Lords. 
In  the  house  it  was  not  a  Httle  affecting  to  find  on 
the  landing  place  of  the  stairs  a    small    foot-square 
tablet  recording  the  birth  and  death  of  '  Louisa  Eleanor 
Brougham.'     Some  indifferent  verses  follow,  and  there 
are  two  other  tablets  over  the  two  principal  bedroom 
doors  respectively  with  fines  by  Mr.  Wellesley  and 
Lord  Carlisle  on  the  same  subject.     I  conjecture  the 
young  lady  was  brought  here  for  her  health  and  per- 
haps the  house  built  for  her  ;  but  she  died  in  '39.    The 
house  is  called  after  her  '  Louise-Eleanore,'  and  it  is 
affecting  to  think  of  the  restless,  perturbed  and  perturb- 
ing ex-chancellor — too  ambitious  and  toofond  of  praise 
not  to  feel  many  mortifications — coming  down  here 
alone  in  yellow  fading  autumn  to  stay  a  few  weeks  at 
what   one   may   call   his   daughter's   monument — the 
yellow  vine-leaves  falhng  about  him,  the  boundless  sea 
unfolded  hke  eternity  before  him — the  petty  clamour 
he  has  made,   distant   and  rather  silent  here.     One 
cannot  tell  what  regrets,  what  common  sympathies 
with  other  men,  what  humbhng  contemplation,  what 
self-upbraidings,  what  better  hopes  and    aspirations 
may  be  suggested  in  the  sweet  seclusion  of  '  Louise- 
Eleanore.'  " 

One  day  he  told  his  wife  : 

"  G has  just  called.     Hopes  we  will  go  and  stay 


46  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

with  him  in  six  weeks'  time.  House  full  meanwhile. 
He  reminds  me  of  a  country  gentleman  who  had  a 
strong  fancy  for  pig-killing,  and  never  allowed  one  to 
be  slain  within  ten  miles  without  partaking  either  as 
actor  or  spectator  in  the  scene.  Also  of  a  duke  who 
had  a  passion  for  funerals  and  vaults,  and  knew  when 
and  where  everybody  was  buried,  and  at  dinner  would 
come  out  with  *  I  saw  your  ladyship's  great-grand- 
father's cofhn  this  morning— the  velvet  in  excellent 
preservation — and  really  very  little  decay  !  '  Our 
friend  differs  from  these  only  in  that  visitations  seem 
to  be  his  mania.  Well,  you  will  be  anxious  to  know 
that  I  arrived  safe  at  Hungerford  market.  I  pro- 
ceeded to  call  on  a  widower  (who  had  sent  a  deep  black- 
edged  note  requesting  consolation),  but  nothing 
afforded  him  such  consolation  as  he  received  from  him- 
self detaihng  every  circumstance  of  his  wife's  death. 
She  was  a  florid  woman  with  rather  profuse  black 
ringlets  half  way  down  Mrs.  Pring's  aisle.  She  ate 
'  very  'arty  of  rabbits  smothered  in  onions,  and  drank 
very  'arty  too  ' ;  at  supper  they  had  cucumber  which 
she  shced,  eating  every  alternate  slice,  '  partaking  of 
them  afterwards  at  supper  besides  '  .  .  .  and  she  died 
as  one  might  expect  !  It  is  impossible  to  convey  the 
shghtest  impression  of  the  ecstasy  with  which  the 
widowed  narrator  diverged  into  a  parenthetic  glow  of 
animated  graphic  to  describe  the  quahty  of  the  cu- 
cumbers, which  were  fresh  gathered — '  warm  with  the 
sun  upon  the  rind  and  within  cold  as  the  central  caves 
of  the  earth.'  " 

When    Mrs.    Brookfield    was    travelhng    \vith    the 
Hallams  in  Austria  and  bewaihng  that  her   husband 
could  not  be  of  the  party,  he  wrote,  from  Southbourne 
Shefaeld— 


THE    FRIEND    OF   THE    "APOSTLES"      47 

"  South  Borneo, 

"  schewild. 

"Is  it  not  400  times  better  that  you  should  have 
had  this  journey  than  that  neither  should  ?  The  only 
drawback  is  that  into  my  cup  of  hatred  for  you  the 
worm  envy  has  now  insinuated  itself  and  will  evermore 
be  lifting  its  dull  crest  over  the  brink  ;  and  for  the  rest 
of  my  days,  while  I  scowl  in  helpless  and  untravelled 
rage,  you  will  laugh  upon  me  with  cheeks  that  have 
blushed  beneath  the  admiration  of  an  Austrian  Count 
and  with  '  eyes  that  have  looked  upon  the  Adriatic' 

"  And  yet  I  scorn  to  be  outdone.  On  Monday,  the 
31st  of  August,  at  10.30,  we  left  the  metropolis  of  Eng- 
land and  of  the  world.  A  vehicle  that  has  within  the 
last  fifteen  years  become  popular  in  this  part  of  the 
universe  conveyed  us  from  the  joyous  piazza  quad- 
ranta  di  Regento  to  the  Stazione  Euston-square. 
Our  party  consisted  of  a  Contadina  with  the  loveliest 
type  of  Saxon  infancy  taking  its  meek  siesta  hke  a 
lamb  upon  the  pasture  where  it  had  been  feeding. 
Beside  her  sate  a  hard-visaged  discontented  cord- 
wainer,  evidently  her  husband,  and  possibly  the  father 
of  her  babe.  He  was  dressed  in  the  picturesque  cos- 
tume which  distinguishes  the  inferior  classes  in  this 
country,  who  are  prevented  (whether  by  poverty  or 
by  legislative  enactment,  I  have  not  been  able  to  learn) 
from  assuming  the  scarlet  coats  and  plumed  casques 
and  glittering  cuirasses,  which  may  be  seen  lounging 
about  the  Guardi  Cavalheri  in  Hallo  Bianco  and  which 
(as  my  assiduous  Varlet  de  Place  informed  me)  indi- 
cate the  hereditary  nobility  of  this  aristocratic  coun- 
try. The  cordwainer  wore  sort  of  trowser  made  of 
fustian,  reaching  to  the  instep,  but  turned  up  in  a 
picturesque  manner  at  the  ancle — I  presume  to  dis- 
play the  blue  worsted  sock  or  stocking  which  is  not 


48  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

infrequently  worn  even  by  the  poor.  A  waistcoat  of 
somewhat  exhausted  features,  but  still  retaining  traces 
of  the  looms  of  Somersetshire,  descended  to  his  waist, 
and  a  body  coat  of  homely  brown,  from  the  iieeces  of 
Southdown  and  dyed  in  the  vats  of  Huddersfield,  with 
tails  and  pockets  behind,  together  with  a  kind  of  hat 
made  from  a  preparation  from  the  cocoon  and  called 
here  a  *  gossamer,'  completed  his  attire,  which  you  may 
be  sure  I  scrutinized  with  greedy  interest.  I  do  not 
think  they  detected  me  to  be  a  foreigner,  for  the  man 
asked  me  '  at  what  time  the  train  started,'  and  betrayed 
no  surprise  or  amusement  when  I  replied  *  at  half-past 
ten.'  It  might  be  my  own  speculating  and  romantic 
fancy,  but  as  I  looked  upon  that  group,  I  could  almost 
have  believed  that  they  had  come  up  from  some  neigh- 
bouring place  not  far  distant  to  spend  their  Sunday 
with  a  relation  in  London,  and  were  now  returning, 

"  But  I  am  allowing  myself  to  be  betrayed  into 
detail  which  would  exhaust  my  paper  to  the  exclusion 
of  more  important  facts.  We  reached  Derbe  at  two, 
and  Lystra  a  few  hours  after — at  least  I  presume  the 
latter  to  be  the  name  of  the  town  at  which  we  next 
alighted.  I  dined  in  the  evening  at  a  villa  near  the 
romantic  town  whose  name  is  at  the  head  of  this  sheet. 
The  cheerful  faces  that  gleamed  upon  me  in  the  corri- 
dor made  me  feel  almost  at  home.  As  the  huge  clock 
of  San  Pietro,  echoed  by  those  of  San  Paolo  and  Santa 
Maria,  sent  its  announcement  of  seven  o'clock  along 
the  romantic  valley  called  Abbey  Dale  (which  is  close 
in  the  neighbourhood  of  South  Borneo)  we  sate  down 
to  a  repast  consisting  of  cold  cow  flesh,  roasted  at  the 
fire  of  the  country  and  served  upon  a  sort  of  earthen- 
ware which  carries  a  high  polish  and  is  adorned  with 
blue  figures  of  a  bridge  with  three  people  passing  over 
it,  a  Chinese  villa,  and  two  amorous  birds  upon  the 


THE    FRIEND    OF   THE    "APOSTLES"     49 

wing,  billing  in  the  air.  This  was  accompanied  by 
boiled  tubers,  very  palatable  bread,  small  cucumbers 
steeped  in  vinegar,  and  for  beverage  a  decoction  of 
barley,  not  disagreeable  to  the  taste,  but  which  when 
drunk  in  considerable  quantities  has  an  effect  upon 
the  party,  not  fatal  but  inconvenient,  being  accom- 
panied by  a  sort  of  dehrium  in  which  before  coming 
entirely  round  the  victim  will  sometimes  fancy  him- 
self locked  up  in  a  station-house,  carried  before  a 
magistrate,  fined  5s.  and  taken  home  in  a  fly.  Well, 
but  you  are  getting  tired  of  this  ! 

"  Thus  the  uneventful  flight  of  time  has  brought  me 
to  Tuesday  the  8th,  when  I  have  the  pleasure  of  your 
letter.  I  have  forgotten  all  this  time  to  acknowledge 
the  one  from  Bolzen,  though,  as  I  think  that  was  the 
one  that  related  your  profligacy  with  the  Austrian 
Whiskerandos,  you  may  have  inferred  that  I  got  it. 
I  liked  the  Bolzen  detour.  It  seemed  wild  and  queer 
and  I  daresay  will  supply  as  much  dreamy  and  ro- 
mantic retrospect  as  more  comfortable  meanderings. 

"  One  thing  by  the  bye  gives  me  exceeding  pain, 
which  is  this,  you  tell  me  of  no  flirtations  in  your 
letters.  Now  as  to  your  travelling  to  Venice  and  back 
without  a  flirtation,  you  may  tell  that  to  the  marines  ; 
and  your  shrouding  it  in  secrecy  leaves  my  imagination 
to  work  itself  into  horrors." 

In  another  letter  of  the  same  period  he  said — 

"  I  have  not  heard  from  you  independently  nor  by 
others.  I  mention  this  not  by  way  of  row,  but  merely 
as  fact,  for  when  the  transit  of  a  letter  is  a  httle  doubt- 
ful mention  should  be  made  (hke  Archbishop  Thorpe's 
question  in  examination,  '  What  does  Aristotle  say 
upon  this,  and  what  does  he  not  say  ?  ').  At  10.30  to 
Miss  Coutts  (as  old   Pepys  would   say).     It   seemed 

+-(2318) 


50  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

rather  more  select  than  before.  The  Gros  Herzog  von 
Waterloo  (the  Duke  of  Wellington)  Grafs  and  Grafines, 
the  Bischofhn  von  London  and  Fraulein  Bloomfeldt, 
Milman  and  wife,   also  Rogers.     What  a  fool  Lady 

G is  !     As  I  was  going  at  11.30,  she  retained  me 

to  help  her  to  her  carriage  at  12.30,  which,  of  course, 
I  was  bound  to  do.  Gaye  just  now  is  as  jealous  as  if  he 
had  not  to  his  comfort  that  highest  form  of  religion 
known  by  the  name  of  Puseyism." 

Later  he  records — 

"  Returning  from  the  post  I  found  Thackeray  and 
Crowe  waiting  with  a  cab  to  take  me  to  Greenwdch 
to  make  a  beast  of  myself.  I  declined,  having  sermon 
on  mind.  I  staid  in  every  minute  of  a  monstrous  hot 
day  trying  with  very  ill  success  to  write  on  '  I  reckon 
that  the  sufferings,  etc'  I  am  not  sure  that  the 
Devil  had  not  been  despatched  from  his  place  to  urge 
me  to  be  rather  striking  after  Manning  (who  had  used 
same  text)  and  Wilberforce,  whose  popular  (but  not 
unapproachable)  declamation  was  ringing  in  people's 
ears.  In  consequence  of  this  wickedness  I  could  not 
get  on  at  all.  Then  came  Tottie's,  far  more  agreeable 
than  I  had  expected.  Old  Tottie's  criticism  of  Sly 
Sam  was  that  it  was  a  most  able  and  effective  discourse 
and  contained  nothing  that  a  person  of  any  set  of 
opinions  could  possibly  take  any  exception  to.  At 
twelve  next  day  recommenced  the  hopeless  and  halting 
sermon.  I  had  an  old  and  abandoned  one  upon  the 
subject  from  which  I  preserved  only  one  sentence. 
At  about  five  the  butter  began  to  come,  and  at  eight 
I  finished.  Grubbed,  then  went  to  Venables  by  a 
sort  of  appointment.  Preached  early  next  day,  '  Be 
sure  your  sin  will  find  you  out.'  Goodish,  but  ill  put 
together.     It  is  a  very  bad  plan  to  take  others'  sermons 


THE    FRIEND    OF   THE    "APOSTLES"     51 

as  the  basis  of  one's  own  and  place  portions  in  whether 
they  harmonize  or  not.  Mem.  :  never  to  do  so  no 
more.  This  was  one  of  them — from  Trench,  but 
neither  Hke  him  nor  me.  P.M.  The  sermon  came 
off  well.  Young  Prendergast  in  amazement  made  such 
wonderful  report  upon  it  that  I  got  invited  to  the  Break- 
fast next  Thursday  !  Good-bye.  Come  back  brown, 
stout  and  sparkling." 

A  few  days  after  writing  the  above  he  went  to  hear 
Manning  preach  and  records  with  satisfaction,  ''  Man- 
ning was  Manning-ish — had  cribbed  a  whole  third  of 
his  sermon  from  Newman."  This  was  in  1846,  and 
Newman  was  now  a  Catholic.  The  moment  Brookfield 
realized  that  if  he  himself  followed  the  "  Movement  " 
closely,  he  was  "  like  to  go  too  far,  which  he  felt  sure 
he  was  apt  to  do,"  he  put  all  deeper  study  of  Church 
History  and  theology  away  from  him,  and  merely 
noted  with  a  Hght  touch  all  that  struck  him  as  eccentric 
in  connexion  with  it.  At  the  time  he  was  wavering 
he  had  a  rector,  the  Rev.  J.  G.  Ward,  of  St.  James', 
Piccadilly,  who  was  one  who  crushed  down  high  flights 
and  tolerated  no  thoughts  in  his  curates  save  orthodox 
and  standard  ones.  ''  We  have  had  due  laughter," 
Brookfield  once  said,  "  at  a  comphment  of  curate  Row- 
land to  rector  Ward  last  Sunday  morning  :  '  I  liked 
your  sermon.  Sir,  very  much.  There  was  no  nonsense 
in  it. ' " 

At  the  end  of  a  letter  to  Miss  Elton  he  mentioned — 

"  I  am  scandalized  at  the  sudden  recollection  that 
while  I  was  drinking  spiritual  Hyson  in  company  with 


52  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

the  unspeakable  (Lord  John  Manners)  and  Lord  Give, 
and  talking  about  poetry  and  Newman  and  human 
destiny  and  things  which  Angels  would  have  been 
glad  to  hear  and  partake  in,  you  were  drinking  Negus 
at  the  Baird's,  and  that  Ash  Wednesday  was  the  day 
you  chose  for  such  a  disposal  of  yourself.  It  is  no 
marvel  that  with  red  eyes  and  trembling  hands  you 
expected  an  unkind  letter  from  me.  However,  I 
leave  you  to  your  own  conscience  !       It  strikes  me  1 

am  writing  a  very  stupid  sort  of  letter however, 

'  I  am  but  human  tho'  I  write  M.A.'  *  Take  care  of 
yourself.  Be  obedient.  Live  by  Rule,'  by  which  you 
must  suppose  me  to  be  saying  '  Goodden,'  Newman- 
icaUy." 

Some  days  after  this,  he — 

**  Dined  at  Harriet's,  and  overheard  a  person  in  an 
adjoining  box  discuss  Church  matters  and  conclude 
with  this  admirable  observation  :  *  I  think  the 
Bishops  are  beginning  to  learn  what  it  would  be  well 
if  they  had  learned  a  little  sooner,  namely  (very  pom- 
pously) that  religion  was  made  for  man  and  not  man 
for  religion.'  Went  forth  to  seek  Venables.  We  talked 
chiefly  about  the  desecularization  of  Clergy,  with 
which  he  disagreed.  We  are  all  alike,  the  piousest 
and  the  profligatist.  I  believe  there  is  very  little 
difference  between  you  and  Lady  Duff-Gordon,  and 
very  little  between  me  and  Dr.  Pusey — all  vanity  and 
vexation  of  spirit — walking  in  a  vain  shadow  and 
disquieting  ourselves  in  vain." 

At  a  meeting  a  few  nights  after  he  complains  that 
there  was  "  Great  bitterness — Oxford  Tracts,  and  I 
had  to  be  somewhat  on  my  guard.  Heard  that  at 
Oxford  on  a  young  man  being  drowned  his  friends  all 


THE    FRIEND    OF   THE    '^APOSTLES"       53 

gathered  round  him  and  had  a  '  prayer-meeting  *  tor 
his  soul."  He  mentions  that  he  saw  engraved  upon 
the  gate  of  a  "  Puseyite  "  Church  :  "  This  is  none 
other  than  the  gate  of  Heaven,"  and  pasted  be- 
low it  an  inscription  written  by  the  Beadle  :  "In 
consequence  of  the  inclemency  of  the  weather  this  gate 

is  closed  until  further  notice."     "  I  met "  he  goes 

on  to  say, ''  A ,  opinionated,  obstinate,  impractic- 
able. He  began  talking  very  liberal— no  partizan- 
ship,  etc.,  but  very  quickly  the  cloven  hoof  of  Puseyism 
appeared.  This  fellow  was  not  long  ago  an  ultra- 
evangelical — he  is  now  distinctly  Oxford  Tract.  To- 
day I  went  to  listen  to  old 's  preaching  ;  he  had 

the  face  to  tell  us  '  fasting  did  not  consist  in  maceration 
but  was  merely  an  external  mortification.'  " 

"  How  enraged  I  should  have  been  at  '  their  Bibles,' 
*  Mr.  Newman  and  his  party,'  etc.,  as  if  their  Bibles 
had  anything  to  do  with  it,  excepting  as  each  party 
may  choose  to  interpret  them.  I  have  no  doubt  I 
shall  hate  the  Edinburgh  article  almost  as  much  as 
I  do  the  High  Church  and  the  Low  Church  and  the 
Church  between  the  two.  I  do  not  think  any  events 
have  darkened  our  horizon,  domestic,  political,  or 
social,  to  which  I  need  make  further  reference — as 
to  the  Ecclesiastical  it  is  all  dark  as  pitch.  Give 
my  best  and  most  reverential  love  to  his  honour"  (Sir 
Charles  Elton),  "  and  tell  him  I  wish  I  were  disputing 
with  him  (like  a  Calvinist  or  Armenian)  whether  the 
wine  we  were  drinking  was  a  Batch  or  a  Vintage.  It 
was  just  like  a  controversy  whether  substantiation 
should  be  spelt  with  a  '  tran  '  or  a  *  con.'  I  never 
knew  any  bit   of   Shakespeare's  nonsense  more  pro- 


54  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

foundly  sagacious  than  'Slender'  declaring  that  he 
would  never  get  drunk  again  but  in  honest  godly 
company." 

When  he  preached  a  mission  on  behalf  of  the  S.P.G. 
throughout  Somerset  in  1846,  he  kept  his  wife  informed 
as  to  which  amongst  his  hosts  had  read  Carlyle  and 
which  Tennyson,  and  also  which  of  them  were 
Evangelical  and  which  "  Pusey  "  and  Oxford.  At 
the  same  time  he  said,  "  In  moving  thanks  yesterday 
for  the  Bishop  of  Barbadoes'  sermon,  the  Dean  of 
Wells  gave  out  that  he  considered  the  principal  object 
of  Cathedral  establishment  was  to  reward  literary 
merit  !      I  shall  tell  Thackeray  !  " 

Brookfield  found  time  to  read  most  things.  One 
day  he  went  through  The  Broad  Stone  of  Honour^ 
Trench's  The  Tares,  a  sermon  of  Newman's,  Indi- 
viduality of  the  Soul,  and  in  bed  Cymheline.  While 
recording  this  day's  occupation  he  observes  that 
Douglas  Jerrold,  after  reading  Harriet  Martineau's 
book,  exclaimed,  ''  There  is  no  God — and  Harriet  is 
his  prophet."  He  was  always  charmed,  no  doubt  by 
the  irrelevancy  and  lack  of  humour  in  the  ''  Verses  by 
a  Poor  Man,"  and  never  gave  a  hne  from  that  quaint 
production  without  prefacing  the  quotation  with 
"  Really  by  a  Canon  of  Durham  !  " 

"  Read  Mansfield  Park  (which  ends  with  Edward 
Bertram  taking  possession  of  the  hving  of  Mansfield). 
After  finishing  I  reached  down  the  Clergy  List  to  see 
what  was  the  value  of  the  Living.  Surely  this  is  a 
comphment  to  the  reahzing  powers  of  Miss  Austen." 


THE    FRIEND    OF    THE    "  APOSTLES '*     55 

"  As  to  Newman's  conversion/' he  said  at  the  time, 
"  I  have  not  heard  a  word  save  from  Thackeray,  who 
came  with  the  news.  He  told  me  all  you  report  and 
more,  and  with  what  we  could  put  together  of  the 
subject  we  sate  all  night." 

Thackeray  and  Brookfield  together  were  what  was 
called  "  great  company."  Each  had  the  power  of 
drawing  out  what  was  best  in  the  other.  For  theirs 
was  an  [attachment  brought  about  by  similarity  of 
humour  and  honesty  of  disposition. 

Thackeray  admired  Brookfield  with  the  ardour  of 
a  generous  nature  ;  he  loved  to  hear  him  talk,  and 
would  unweariedly  listen  to  him  a  whole  night  through. 
He  went  to  hear  his  sermons  and  his  readings  when- 
ever he  could  ;  he  loved  his  wit  and  took  it  up  and  used 
it  and  illustrated  it ;  as  also,  by  the  way,  did  Leech. 
Brookfield  returned  Thackeray's  affection  and  loved 
the  man  and  liked  his  work.  He  always  saw  the 
great  author  whenever  he  was  in  his  church,  and 
pleased  and  flattered  would  note  the  fact  and  endeavour 
to  preach  his  best  to  him.  After  a  spell  of  Thackeray's 
society  he  would  fly  to  his  works  and  re-read  them  with 
renewed  interest.  "  Read  a  volume  of  Yellow  Plush ;  it 
is  immeasurably  amusing.  He  is  quite  first-rate  in  talent, 
kindness  and  humility,"  he  wrote  with  fervent  truth 
of  him  to  a  common  friend.  The  two  men  were  such 
companions  that  they  were  in  the  habit  of  invoking 
each  other's  advice  upon  most  subjects  ;  and  so  inti- 
mate that  in  times  of  stress  and  difficulty  they  talked 
over  together  their  confidential  affairs  and  innermost 


56         THE   CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES'* 

thoughts.  If  one  of  them  did  not  at  the  moment 
care  for  the  company  assembled  at  the  other's  house, 
he  would  patiently  wait  (sometimes  in  an  unused  room) 
until  they  had  departed,  when  he  would  emerge  and  a 
brilliant  and  cheerful  evening  or  night  for  themselves 
alone  would  ensue.  Thackeray  often  "  walked  in 
the  Park  with  Jane  and  self.  Went  away  to  dress. 
Came  back  with  Doyle  of  the  Morning  Chronicle,'* 
or  with  anybody  he  may  have  found  awaiting  him 
at  his  own  house.  "  Returning  from  Church  found 
Thackeray.  He  staid  three  hours.  Went  when 
Springrice  came."  "  I  have  only  seen  Tidmarsh  once 
.  .  .  and  that  in  the  middle  of  the  day,"  Brookfield  once 
bemoaned.  This  was  at  a  time  when  he  and  Thack- 
eray were  smoking  too  much  and  sitting  up  too  late, 
and  in  an  endeavour  to  break  themselves  of  these 
habits  had,  for  a  period,  forsworn  each  other's  society 
— ^in  the  evening.  "  Thack,"  "  Thackwhack,"  "  Tid- 
marsh," "  Titmarch,"  *'  Tidmouse,"  "  Makepeace," 
"  Peacemake,"  were  some  of  the  names  Brookfield 
used  to  designate  the  great  author.  To  his  wife  he 
once  wrote — 

"  A  supernaturally  dull  dinner,  with  Sir  Erasmus 
talking  unmitigated  radicalism  opposite  and  a  sucking 
dove  from  oxford  talking  you  know  what,  at  my  side. 
Preached  next  day  twice  at  St.  Luke's.  Bishop  at 
Jimses,  p.m.  as  he  will  be  next  Sunday.  His  sermon 
was  about  Baptism.  Dreadfully  stragghng  and 
wearisome  (if  indeed  it  be  reverent,  so  to  speak, 
to  speak  so  of  one's  Bishop — if  so  be — withal, — 
anyhow,)  but    in    the    midst    I    observed  a  woman 


THE   FRIEND    OF   THE    "APOSTLES"     57 

by  the  communion  rails  twitching  her  face  in 
scorn  till  at  length  she  took  up  a  hat  and 
came  to  my  pew  door  and  held  it  out,  apparently 
to  me,  and  exclaimed,  '  There,  take  your  hat,  don  t 
stay  to  hear  such  vice  as  that— he  wants  us  to  beheve 
it's  only  children  that's  converted!'  Of  course 
she  was  hustled  off  by  the  awestruck  warden  and  all 
was  calm  again.  This  morning  after  Post  I  called 
on  the  Historian.  The  talk  was  mere  chatter,  i 
am  to  dine  there  to-morrow  to  see  the  Milnes  Gaskells. 
The  Peer's  note  was  to  put  off  our  walk  on  Saturday. 
It  concludes—'  Stalest  pill  dissolved  m  stagnantest 
ditch  water  is  a  faint  image  of  the  manner  m  which 
the  Rev.  pleaded  the  cause  of  the  chanty  (Bur- 
lington) last  Sunday.'  I  have  not  the  least  fancy  for 
Mrs  Procter's  Ball.  Certainly  not  inasmuch  as  it  may 
be  Hterary,  for  it  will  be  so  far  vulgar.  The  aristocratic 
literates  are  the  tiresomest ;  the  pubhshmg,  the  vul- 
garest  people  one  meets.  Even  Thackeray  is  spoilt 
by  being  an  author  and  with  authors.  I  see  no  reason 
why  any  body  shouldnot  read  ClarissaHarlowe—ifthey 
can,  but  reading  all  the  Fathers  through  is  nothing 
to  it  for  a  task  1  " 

This  grumble  was  written  in  1844,  and  in  it  Brook- 
field  perhaps  only  expressed  the  feehngs  of  the  time 
with  regard  to  the  Hterary  world. 

Once  when  he  was  complaining  that  he  did  not 
see  enough  of  Thackeray,  his  wife  said:  "Mr. 
Thackeray  seems  to  eschew  you  in  your  pre- 
sent abode"  (the  vaults  beneath  St.  Luke's  Church 
where  he  then  was  living),  "but  I  had  a  letter 
from  him  to-day  which  is  filled  with  praises  of  your 
mode  of  treating  people's  consciences  and  Mrs.  Crowe's 


58  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

in  particular."  On  which  he  repHed  to  her  :  "  Thank 
ye  for  Tidmarsh's  letter  and  praise.  Tell  him  I  still 
think  him  a  much  over-rated  person."  By  and  by, 
when  Thackeray  was  hourly  seeking  him  and  they  to- 
gether enjoying  a  time  of  happy  companionship,  he 
says :  "  Thackwhack  said  he  never  saw  you  looking 
better  than  at  starting.  Payne  (Mrs.  Brookfield's 
maid)  he  did  not  see  !  How  blind  love  is  !  The 
amusement  at  Spedding's  was  not  so  much  (as  Thack- 
eray is  pleased  to  impute)  the  observations  that  fell 
from  parties,  as  the  explosive  appreciation  of  the  same 
by  W.  M.  T.  who  the  moment  that  one  let  fall  an 
innocent  remark  went  off  into  such  violent  laughter 
that  the  sympathy  was  irresistible.  We  afterwards 
looked  in  at  Mr.  Hallam's,  w^hom  we  accompanied  to 
Mr.  Venables',  where  we  found  cheerful  and  cheery 
Mr.  Garden." 

To  this  Mrs.  Brookfield  replied  : — 

"  Mr.  Thackeray  seems  in  his  friendliest  mood  with 
you — he  does  take  fits  and  starts  of  coming  to  see  us, 
I  think,  though  the  friendliness  is  always  there  ready 
for  use  when  the  fit  to  show  it  also  comes." 

It  always  gave  Thackeray  extraordinary  pleasure 
to  have  Brookfield  with  him  at  Brighton — and  once 
when  they  were  walking,  as  was  their  custom,  at  night 
upon  the  beach,  a  man  mth  a  telescope  accosted  them, 
who  would  only  say,  when  asked  his  price,  "  What 
you  please,  gents,  what  you  please."  Thackeray,  with 
a  twinkle,  thought  for  awhile,  then  offered  him  sixpence 
for  both  of  them  to  see  "Jupiter  and  Saturn."     "I 


THE    FRIEND    OF   THE    "APOSTLES"      59 

canH  do  it,  Sir.  I  can't  do  it  at  the  priced  On  this 
occasion  they  dined  at  a  strange  inn,  and  were  greatly 
amused  when  urged  by  the  waiter  to  join  the  ''  Nickle- 
by's,"  a'club  which  was  then  holding  a  meeting  there, 
''  hut  we  did  not  go." 

'^  Finished  Old  Curiosity  Shop.  Unredeemed  trash/' 
occurs  now  in  the  diary  ;  but  whether  the  "  Nickleby 
Club  "  had  put  Brookfield  out  of  touch  with  Dickens 
or  whether  this  dishke  to  Dickens'  novel  arose  out  of 
faithful  affection  for  Thackeray,  unfortunately  does  not 
appear.  Brookfield  scarcely  wrote  a  letter  when  Vanity 
Fair  was  coming  out  \\ithout  some  allusions  to  it  ;  to 
his  wife  he  says — 

"  The  Nugent  Wades  invite  me  to  the  intolerable 
and  unsustainable  Clerical  dinner  for  Monday  the 
15th.  They  will  adhere  to  the  woman  part  of  the  plan, 
which  spoils  what  is  bad  enough  to  begin  with.  It  is 
very  odd  that  people  will  not  see  the  absurdity  and 
incongruity  of  clergymen  having  wives.  A  capital 
Vanity  this  month — though  quiet  and  void  of  action. 
TeU  me  if  I  must  bring  it." 

The  "  Clerical  Club "  was  one  which  came  into 
being  one  evening  at  the  Brookfields'  house  after  an 
S.P.G.  meeting  there.  A  conversation  happened 
to  arise  concerning  parochial  clergy  and  their 
families,  when  someone  said  the  only  opportunity 
that  the  London  clergy  had  of  familiar  acquaintance- 
ship was  at  dinner-parties — and  dinner-parties  were 
very  expensive  things.  On  this,  Ernest  Hawkins 
(father  of  Mr.  Anthony  Hope),  who  was  present,  said  : 


6o  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES'^ 

"  Why  shouldn't  we  have  a  piece  of  plain  beef  Hke  this 
which  you  are  now  giving  us,  Brookfield,  and  dine 
together,  clergy  and  wives,  without  any  fuss — just 
ordinary  family  dinner  ?  "  This  plan  took  with  them 
all,  and  a  club  was  then  and  there  formed  consisting 
solely  of  clergy  and  wives  (young),  and  meetings  were 
afterwards  held  in  succession  at  members'  houses, 
all  the  dinners  being  under  sitmptuary  laws  !  At  first 
their  numbers  were  seven,  but  when  this  was  pres- 
ently increased  to  twelve,  they  confined  their  hospital- 
ity to  clergymen  only;  ladies  were  invited  to  go 
in  the  evening,  but  this  privilege  they  eventually 
declined. 

Thackeray  and  Brookfield  were  on  various  occasions 
after  their  college  days  up  at  Cambridge  together. 
Once,  when  they  were  both  engaged  to  go  up  to  some 
election  there,  Brookfield  received  the  following — 

Trinity  College,  March  7,  1849. 
"  My  dear  Brookfield, — 

"  We  are  big  enough  to  hold  both  you  and  Thack- 
eray. I  wish  you  would  come  on  Saturday  to  dine 
with  me — as  late  as  you  please.  There  is  a  train  leaves 
London  at  2.30.  Let  me  know  by  return,  and  whether 
Thackeray  will  condescend  to  sleep  in  College.  The 
invitation  to  dinner  you  will  convey  to  him,  or  any 
other  select  spirit  you  may  fall  in  with — our  founder, 
of  portly  memory,  expressly  enjoins  upon  us  the 
practice  of  hospitality. 

"  You  will  hear  of  your  rooms  at  the  Porter's  lodge. 
"  Yours  ever, 

"  W.  H.  Thompson." 


THE    FRIEND    OF    THE    "APOSTLES"       6i 

Mr.  Arcedeckne,  the  prototype  of  Foker,  piqued  at 
being  portrayed  as  in  Pendennis,  took  every  occasion 
of  annoying  its  author  by  famiharity  of  manner.  One 
day  when  Thackeray  was  sitting  in  the  smoking 
room  of  the  Garrick,  in  his  favourite  attitude,  his  legs 
crossed,  one  foot  pointed  in  the  air,  and  surrounded  by 
admirers,  Foker  advanced,  and  while  hailing  him  with, 
''  Well,  Thack,  how  are  you  ?  "  struck  his  match  at 
the  same  time  on  the  sole  of  the  upturned  foot  and 
proceeded  to  light  his  cigar — a  liberty  which  Thack- 
eray very  much  resented.  It  was  he,  of  course,  who 
on  hearing  Thackeray  say  he  was  feeling  somewhat 
nervous  as  to  the  success  of  his  lectures  in  America, 
called  out,  ''  I'll  tell  you  what  you'll  want  Thack. 
You'll  want  a  piano." 

Of  the  small  news  wdth  which  Brookfield  kept  his 
wife  ati  courant  the  following  are  specimens — 

"  Kensington,  with  Thackeray.  Dined  on  the  widow 
whose  husband  I  took  to  the  Gods  (Goddards).  She 
was  tender  and  fat  as  widows  are.  They  were  both 
destroyed  by  the  merciless  gun  of  Elisha  himself  (his 
brother-in-law).  Who  would  think  it  to  look  at  him 
— though  I  expect  to  be  eaten  by  a  bear  for  the  allusion 
— which  incident  will  doubtless  be  followed  by  Thack- 
eray's conversion  to  the  plenary  inspiration  theory. 
I  ended  the  night  with  Spedding.  To-day  Lushington, 
Venables,  Tennyson,  all  called.  Thackeray  was  already 
here.  All  staid  to  a  hugger  mugger,  but  rather  cheery 
dinner." 

Brookfield  noted  with  interest  everything  that  per- 
tained to  the  theatrical  life,  and  anything  connected 


62  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

with  its  members  ;  he  said  :  "  I  never  met  Tommy 
Moore  but  once.  It  was  at  a  Breakfast  at  Rogers' 
— where  were  about  a  dozen  notables,  including 
Lord  John  Russell,  the  American  minister,  Milnes 
and  others.  I  asked  Moore  if  he  ever  went  to  the  play. 
He  said  :  '  No — I  don't  want  to  see  the  stage  covered 
with  Macreadys.  Every  actor  imitates  him  so  closely 
that  you  can't  tell  who  is  speaking.'  " 

"  I  am  always  a  good  deal  moved — not  to  tears — 
but  I  think  a  good  deal  about  it,  when  an  actress  dies. 
Poor  Clara  Webster  was  very  pretty  and  was  a  good 
deal  talked  about.  Only  three  days  before  I  had  been 
reading  bits  of  scandal  about  her  ;  as  how  can  a  pretty 
actress  escape  ;  to-day  she  is  dead — and  so  stupidly." 

"  Where  I  then  went  I  would  not  give  you  the 
slightest  hint  in  the  world,  but  certainly  Charles  Mat- 
thews was  excessively  good  in  Used  Up  and  Patter 
versus  Clatter.  I  did  not  believe  he  had  so  much  talent 
as  *  a  mime.'  His  wife  is  merely  astonishing  that  she 
can  at  her  age  present  anything  tolerable ;  but  leav- 
ing out  the  word  *  considering  '  I  don't  think  her  a 
wonder.  I  sate  next  a  person  whom  I  have  often  seen 
begging  in  the  streets — a  fineish  looking  old  man  with 
flowing  white  hair  and  beard — who  stands  with  lucifer 
boxes  making  very  polite  bows,  but  not  actually  beg- 
ging. He  conversed  quite  affably  with  his  neighbours 
— tho'  I  did  not  happen  to  speak — and  he  had  all  the 
air  of  an  amateur. 

"  To-day  I  am  not  going  to  do  anything  striking. 
But  at  10  I  daresay  Tidmarsh  will  look  in  for  a  little 
of  the  associated  produce  of  Trinidad  and  Geneva." 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE    FRIEND    OF    THE    '' APOSTLES "    (continued) 

But  thee,  sweet  hour  so  pensive,  soft  and  lone, 
Thee,  Holy  Memory  still  shall  call  her  own, 
Stni  by  thy  moonlights'  fair  congenial  ray 
Of  bygone  years  with  kindred  joys  shall  stray, 
Han  the  past  day's  more  chastened  splendour,  yet 
In  thee  reflected  tho'  its  sun  is  set  ! 

(W.  H.  Brookfield.) 

As  an  Inspector  of  Schools,  Brookfield  struck  out  a 
line  of  his  own — to  the  bewilderment  of  the  Privy 
Council  Office.  He  saw  the  errors  of  the  educational 
methods  of  those  times,  but  he  knew  that,  were  he 
merely  to  draw  attention  to  them  in  the  conventional 
way,  no  active  steps  would  be  taken  to  correct  them. 
He  accordingly  embodied  in  his  official  reports  any 
humorous  rephes  or  incidents  which  came  under  his 
notice  during  his  examination  of  pupils  and  teachers, 
which  illustrated,  or  drew  attention  to  the  defects  of 
the  prevaihng  system.  These  novel  blue-books  at- 
tracted a  vast  amount  of  notice,  and  brought  about 
considerable  reforms. 

"  One  boy,"  he  says,  "  wrote  :  '  Dr.  Johnson  after 
trying  many  other  experiments  married  a  widow  with 
£800  a  year.'      Another  gave   me  valuable   historical 


64  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

information.  *  Julius  Caesar/  he  said,  '  was  an  emi- 
nent Roman  Catholic  descended  from  a  high  plebeian 
family.'  '  George  the  Third,'  records  another,  *  was 
the  longest  sovereign  that  ever  reigned.'  '  Great 
advances  in  civilization,'  wrote  a  teacher  in  her  first 
year,  '  were  made  in  Elizabeth's  time,  but  still  poor 
Mr.  Lee,  a  clergyman  of  Nottingham,  broke  his  heart 
because  not  one  in  a  hundred  wore  stockings.'  "  But 
the  human  touch  of  a  smart  young  schoolmistress 
pleased  him  the  most.  She  wrote  with  pious  convic- 
tion : — **  Eve  lived  a  life  of  innocence  until  she  fell 
under  the  influence  of  Satin." 

A  fellow  Inspector  (Moseley)  once  told  him  in  the 
presence  of  a  school  council  that  an  unusually  efficient 
assistant  had  been  sent  him  from  the  P.  C.  O.  to  watch 
against  copying  at  examinations.  "I,"  said  Brook- 
field,  "  saw  by  his  eye  that  there  was  more  behind. 
When  we  were  alone  he  told  me  that  the  man  sent  down 
was  stone  blind,  but  had  a  tremendous  pair  of  eyes 
which  he  rolled  about  to  the  dismay  of  the  students  !  " 

His  reports  were  sent  to  all  hisiriends.  John  Forster 
wrote  in  regard  to  one  of  them — 

"  My  dear  Brookfield, — 

"  Many  thanks  to  you  for  your  Report.  The  delight- 
fully humorous  anecdote,  so  genially  and  pleasantly 
told  (Dickens  was  here  when  it  came,  and  had  a  hearty 
laugh  at  that),  is  but  a  small  part  of  the  pleasure  it 
has  given  me.  Everything  in  it  is  so  good — the  argu- 
ment thoroughly  sound,  the  suggestions  were  so  valu- 
able, and  of  wide  apphcabihty,  the  tone  so  kind  and 


THE    FRIEND    OF   THE    "APOSTLES"      65 

good-humoured,  the  illustrations  so  entertaining  and 
agreeable.  There  never  were  such  capital  reports  as 
yours.  For  once  officiality  becoming  a  thing  to  be 
respected  and  attended  to.  Unaffectedly  I  cannot 
help  boring  you  with  this — and  I  am  sorely  tempted 
to  ask  whether,  if  I  apphed  to  Mr.  Lingen  (whom  I 
know,  and  who  would  be  civil  to  any  request  within 
reason,  I  fancy),  he  could  put  me  in  the  way  of  get- 
ting your  former  reports. 

"  I  ought  not  to  close  my  note  without  saying  (in 
fact  I  am  asked  to  say  it)  with  what  unusual  interest 
and  pleasure  my  wife  also  has  read  this  production  of 
Her  Majesty's  Stationery  Office. 

"  With  kind  remembrances  to  Mrs.  Brookfield, 
"  Ever  most  truly  yours, 

"  John  Forster." 

Caroline  Lyttelton  told  him  that  at  her  village 
school  where  she  once  asked  a  child  '*  What  is  your 
duty  towards  your  betters  ?  "  she  got  in  reply,  ''  To 
keep  their  hands  from  picking  and  stealing." 

**  A  gentleman,"  Brookfield  says,  "  informed  me 
that,  *  in  anticipation  of  my  visit  to  Morden  the  school- 
master there  had  hanged  himself,'  and  added,  as  a  pohte 
afterthought,  '  This  shows  the  value  of  inspection.'  " 

He  was  remarkable  for  his  happy  choice  of  words  ; 
he  had  indeed  "  a  perfect  command  of  apt  words 
and  apt  tones,"  and  frequently  dilated  upon  their 
importance.  He  and  Trench,  in  early  days  at  Botley, 
often  talked  over  their  varying  values  together.  No- 
body had  a  greater  craving  than  he  for  the  mot  juste. 
To  his  wife  he  once  said — 

5-{23i8) 


66  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

"  If  you  will  go  driving  yourself  about  the  country 
(when  there  are  plenty  of  coachmen  out  of  place) 
lugging  away  at  the  reins,  pitching  into  horses  off  and 
near  with  the  whip,  whipping  behind,  getting  off  the 
box  now  and  then  to  bear  up  your  near  leader — you 
must  expect  the  inconveniences  of  a  few  aches  and 
pains.  Now  if  you  would  be  more  feminine  and  get 
into  the  carriage  instead  of  on  the  box,  and  take  a 
quiet  lady-like  '  ride  '  (as  your  friends  say,  but  never 
let  me  hear  you  say  it) — you  would  be  able  to  hold  a 
pen  and  write  a  longer  and  better  letter  to  your  widowed 
rib  than  he  is  at  this  hurried  moment  able  to  write  to 
you." 

On  his  first  visit  to  Paris  in  1834,  he  observed — 

"  I  went  to  the  Grand  Opera.  It  was  Don  Juan. 
This  opera  was  much  talked  of,  but  I  was  disappointed. 
The  orchestra  was  the  greatest  I  ever  heard — the 
theatre  pretty  enough,  but  no  larger  than  Covent 
Garden.  There  was  no  crowding,  only  tickets  issued 
according  to  the  number  of  seats.  Snobs  go  early, 
buy  pit  tickets  at  the  usual  price,  come  out  and  beset 
comers  at  a  quarter  past  seven  to  give  them  5J  francs 
for  their  tickets.    So  did  we." 

"  Cad,"  in  those  days  signified  merely  an  omni- 
bus conductor.  "  Snob  "  was  a  poor  low  fellow ;  but 
both  have  changed  their  significance.  Thackeray 
startled  everybody  when  he  said,  "  the  real  snob 
was  the  man  who  pretended  to  be  what  he  wasn't,  and 
not  he  who  wore  trousers  with  no  straps  to  them." 

Brookfield  noted  that  "  the  word  *  important '  has  a 
peculiar  meaning  \rith  Popular  Preachers.     The  Rev. 


THE    FRIEND    OF   THE    "APOSTLES"      67 

J.  M.  C.  Bellew  once  wrote  to  request  me  to  officiate 
in  his  absence  at  St.  Philip's,  Regent  Street.  He  said, 
'  the  congregation  is  important '  (i.e.  contained  many 
people  of  rank  and  consideration),  "  but  I  shall  be 
perfectly  satisfied  if  you  will,  etc'  " 

"  I  knew,"  he  said,  "  a  curate  whose  notions  of 
meanness  were  peculiar — he  spoke  of  another  clergy- 
man as  a  mean  man  ;  he  had  called  upon  the  Curate 
and  his  wife  .  .  .  and  had  never  asked  to  see  the 
Baby  !  " 

That  he  sometimes  bewildered  people  is  shown  by 
one  of  his  brightest  correspondents,  Mary  Campbell, 
who  said  to  him  in  the  course  of  a  brilhant  effusion — 

"  I  am  suffering  from  bombardment  on  the  brain, 
brought  on  by  some  lines  on  the  battle  of  Balaklava 
by  one  A.  T.  and  the  criticisms  thereon  (by  one  you 
wot  of)  which  are  amusing  : — 

Cannon  to  right  of  them, 
Cannon  to  left  of  them. 

"  *  Mere  jingle  of  words  !  '  *  Take  the  guns '  is  what 
Nolan  said.'  '  I  couldn't  have  written  anything 
more  prosy  myself,'  etc.  Some  one  timidly  suggests 
that  the  way  in  which  they  are  read  makes  some 
difference — but  is  put  down  by  the  assurance  that 
'  no  mortal  with  a  grain  of  common  sense,'  etc.,  etc. 

"  Like  all  imaginative  people  you  are  pleased  to 
fancy  that  every  body  else  knows  as  much  as  you  do. 
Poor  Hartley  Coleridge  when  talking  metaphysics  to 
our  good  old  Aunt  as  she  knitted  her  stockings,  used 
to  illustrate  them  thus  :  '  Plato,  you  know,  ma'am, 
says ' — ending  with  a  Greek  quotation,  and  so  you 


68  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

speak  of  Charles  Reade,  and  to  throw  further  Hght  on 
him  add,  '  a  coadjutor  of  Tom  Taylor's.'  It  is  as  bad 
as  our  old  nurse,  who  would  repeat,  '  This  is  the  house 
that  Jack  built,'  all  in  a  breath,  and  to  our  eager  in- 
quiries as  to  who  Jack  was,  would  only  tell  us,  '  That 
is  not  a  proper  question  !  '  Who  is  Charles  Reade, 
really  ?     And  who  is  '  Tom '  Taylor  ?  " 

The  cultured  Lyttelton  family  were  also  purists 
concerning  words  and  probably  encouraged  Mr. 
Brookfield  in  his  classic  taste.  When  the  word 
"  elegant  "  was  once  obviously  misused  in  his  presence 
he  reminded  himself  that  long  years  before,  Sarah,  Lady 
Lyttelton,  had  said  to  him  of  somebody  they  both 
knew,  "  She  is,  if  the  expression  were  justifiable, 
which  it  is  not,  an  elegant  woman." 

To  his  wife,  whose  selection  of  words  he  sometimes 
envied,  he  said — 

"  I  have  no  such  forcible  one-worded-ness  as  you  ; 
nor  would  terse  Tacitus  himself  if  he  lived  in  these 
days  in  the  same  house  as  the  old  gentleman  who  is 
prating  overhead  and  who  feels  towards  words  as 
Andrew  Brigstock  does  towards  horses,  and  will  never 
be  content  to  drive  one  if  he  can  get  four.  I  could  not 
keep  pace  with  you  had  I  a  team  of  six — or  even  a 
span  of  oxen — but  I  see  I  am  rather  sticking  in  the 
mud  of  my  own  pleasantry." 

His  stories  of  the  clergy  were  good  and  varied.  Of 
W.,  an  old  College  acquaintance,  he  told  that  he  was 
in  Orders  against  his  will,  and  very  fond  of  the  Army. 
A  recruiting  party  on  some  occasion  passed  through  his 


THE    FRIEND    OF   THE    "APOSTLES"     69 

parish,  and  the  next  morning  W was  discovered 

rather  tipsy  with  a  bunch  of  recruit  ribbons  in  his  hat. 
The  Sergeant  behaved  very  well  about  it — but  it 
happened  a  second  time  and  W.  was  suspended. 

"  Carus,"  he  used  to  say,  "  after  a  wine-party  at  his 
room  (Sir  I.  Newton's)  at  Trinity,  turned  with  a  smirk 
to  the  undergraduates  there  assembled,  and  said, 
"  And  now  shall  we  have  a  word  or  two  of  prayer  ?  " 
Then  went  to  the  door  and  turned  the  key  and, 
with  another  smirk  over  his  shoulder,  simpered,  "  For 
fear  of  the  Jews." 

"  A  clergyman  preaching  a  funeral  sermon  on  a 
Bishop  closed  a  highly  eulogistic  discourse  by  saying  : 
*  The  many  virtues  of  this  prelate  could  not  be  summed 
up  in  more  concise  words  than  these,  namely,  *  He 
lived  the  life  of  a  Taylor  and  died  the  death  of  a 
Bull.'  " 

The  Bishop  of  Worcester  once  told  him  that  when 
he  was  incumbent  at  Brighton  a  certain  man  wagered 
to  run  so  many  miles  and  to  eat  his  breeches  within 
the  hour.  But  the  knowing  fellow  had  a  pair  of  the 
said  garments  made  of  tripe  and  won  his  wager  !  The 
same  Bishop  related  that  the  Bishop  of  London  told 
him  he  was  one  day  alighting  from  his  horse  in  Town 
when  he  was  accosted  by  a  man  in  lank  hair,  who  said, 
"  Aren't  you  my  Lord  Bishop  Ryder  ?  "  '*  Why,"  said 
the  Bishop,  "  I  was  five  minutes  ago,  and  shall  be  as 
soon  as  I  mount  my  horse  again,  but  micantime  I  am 
Bishop  of  London." 

About  a  certain  Mrs.  S.  (who  told  him  "  she  could 


70  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES'* 

not  remember  the  time  when  she  was    not  a  true 
servant  of  God  !  ")  he  said — 

"  In  my  opinion  she  is  neither  drunk  nor  mad.  That 
is  to  say,  she  is  not  madder  than  the  greater  number 
of  the  self-complacent  religious  world,  but  had  rather 
lost  control  over  her  vanity,  which  vanity  itself  was 
only  on  a  par  with  many  other  people's  ;  not  far 
different,  for  instance,  from  that  of  Knight,  the  Quaker 
wine  merchant,  below  Bar  (Southampton),  who  wrote 
a  letter  in  the  newspaper,  which  I  saw,  explaining 
that  he  could  not  conscientiously  engage  in  worship 
with  the  Church  of  England  and  the  '  miserable 
sinners,'  as  he  did  not  consider  himself  either  one  or 
the  other." 

When  one  of  the  St.  James'  curates  was  complaining 
he  never  was  allowed  to  preach  in  the  season  as  often  as 
he  wished,  Mr.  Brookfield  sighed,  "  Ah  !  A  word  in 
the  season,  how  good  it  is  !  " 

From  a  letter  we  get  : 

"  This  day  I  have  been  to  keep  Gunpowder  Day  at 
St.  James'.  Think  of  this  !  You  know,  of  course, 
that  it  is  not  a  popular  celebration  with  the  Pusey- 
ites  ;  and  when  I  got  into  Ward's  this  morning.  Ward 
told  me,  not  without  sniggers,  that  Thompson  (curate) 
had  begged  Turner  (curate)  to  take  his  place  as  himself 
and  Mrs.  Thompson  were  going  to  sit  for  their  portraits 
this  morning  I  Ward  laughed,  but  called  Thompson 
'  a  sneak.'  Haslewood  preached  for  me  last  night, 
and  in  the  application  of  his  sermon  asked  in  the  most 
impressive  manner  '  Is  there  here  a  mother — or  a  wife — 
or  a  mistress  ? '  " 


THE    FRIEND    OF   THE    "APOSTLES"     71 

Robert  Montgomery  (he  who  told  Brookfield  he 
thought  he  could  "  adapt  the  gospel  to  the  West  End," 
if  given  a  living  there),  travelled  once  through  Vevey 
just  before  the  Rev.  J.  M.  Campbell,  a  friend  of  his 
own  who  succeeded  him  in  his  living  and  who  told  the 
tale,  and  who  found  in  Montgomery's  handwriting, 
"  on  the  wall,  I  think,"  says  Brookfield,  the  following 
valuable  testimonial :  "  The  earth  is  the  Lord's  and  the 
fulness  thereof  Robert  Montgomery.'' 

A  lady,  a  friend  of  the  Brookfields,  in  the  course 
of  exploring  the  house  of  a  very  evangeUcal  nobleman, 
after  admiring  room  after  room,  exclaimed  :  "  And 
to  think  that  he  has  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven 
besides." 

When  some  Whig  Bishop  was  elected  in  or  about 
the  year  1845,  Brookfield  heard  Robert  Wilberforce 
say  of  the  newly-elected,  "he  is  a  man  absolutely 
ignorant  of  Christianity,  but  not  hostile  to  it." 

Once  he  wrote  to  his  wife  :  "  I  quite  agree  in  your 
High  Church  theory  that  the  Clergyman's  place  is,  etc. 
etc.,  but  admire  no  less  the  truly  Protestant  doctrine 
prevalent  in  the  days  of  Ohver  that  he  is  at  liberty  to 
place  the  Altar  wherever  he  hkes,  and  I  further  think 
that  you  were  quite  right  in  fixing  it  at  the  Miss  Berry's 
on  Wednesday.  Lord  Glenelg  (in  fancy  dress)  must 
have  been  a  great  sight ;  but  on  the  whole,  I  inchne  to 
think  that  Hallam  chewing  up  Alfred's  pine-apple  jam, 
after  grandly  refusing  it,  might  have  been  greater." 
This  was  concerning  a  visit  which  Mrs.  Brookfield, 
with  Henry  Hallam  (the  historian  and  her  uncle)  and 


72  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES/' 

his  daughter  paid  to  the  poet,  who  was  then  Hving  at 
Twickenham.  Hallam  had  refused  to  eat  the  confiture 
in  the  Poet's  presence  (it  had  been  sent  to  him  by  an 
admirer),  but  during  the  drive  back  to  London  "chewed 
up  "  almost  the  whole  of  it. 

Brookfield  was  a  favourite  guest  of  the  Ashburtons, 
who  were  never  so  happy  as  when  they  had  him  and 
his  companions  with  them.  He  remarks  once  :  "  Dined 
at  home.  Afterwards  to  Lady  Ashburton's,  where  Lord 
A.,  Venables,  Poodle  Byng,  Spedding,  Milnes,  Lushing- 
ton,  G.  Bunsen,  Carlyle  and  wife  and  ourselves.  We 
talked  of  epitaphs.  At  Birmingham  there  is  to  be 
found  : 

"This  sod  hath  drunk  the  widow's  tear, 
Three  of  my  husbands  he  buried  here." 

Again  he  says :  "  We  dined  at  the  Carrick  Moors. 
Maurice,  Rajah  Brooke,  Spedding,  etc.  The  Rajah 
was  in  good  spirits,  exceedingly  pleasant,  and  seemed 
to  have  sufficient  of  the  humorous  element.  After- 
noon I  preached  at  the  Temple,  *  I  know  whom  I  have 
beheved.'  Very  full.  Lord  Brougham  made  a  sensa- 
tion by  shuffling  into  the  Treasurer's  place  just  after 
service  had  begun.  It  was  quite  touching  to  see  him. 
Lady  Ehzabeth  Dalrymple  was  there.  She  told  me 
after,  that  as  Lord  Eldon  used  to  be  the  friend  of  the 
Church,  but  never  went  inside  one,  so  Lord  Brougham 
who  hates  the  Church  never  missed.  He  had  been  at 
Whitehall  this  morning  !  " 

Greville  in  his  diary  says — 


THE    FRIEND    OF   THE    "APOSTLES"      73 

"  A  magnificent  sermon  from  Brookfield.  He  lately 
said  to  a  friend  of  mine, '  Believe  me,  that  in  our  Church 
there  is  a  great  demand  for  dulness  !  '  I  think  he  is 
quite  right." 

'*  Dined  with  Venables  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge 
Club.  We  were  Monteith,  Garden,  F.  Lushington, 
Sir  James  Simeon,  H.  A.  Mereweather.  Exceedingly 
pleasant.  Some  one  told  that  Sydney  Smith  when 
dying  said,  '  Ah,  Macaulay  will  be  sorry  when  I  am 
gone  that  he  never  heard  my  voice.  He  will  wish 
sometimes  he  had  let  me  edge  in  a  word.'  " 

^'  Windsor,  May  13,  1866.  Read  afternoon  prayers 
in  the  private  chapel,  which  I  did  not  attend — nor 
Queen  either.  At  4.30  I  attended  St.  George's  Chapel 
with  Mrs.  Wellesley.  At  8  we  dined.  Dean  and  wife, 
Lord  Cadogan  and  son  (at  Eton)  and  self.  Mrs. 
Wellesley  poured  out  a  spoonful  of  water  and  added 
salt  to  it  in  place  of  melted  butter  with  her  asparagus. 
I  said,*  That  is  to  me  quite  a  new  dodge.'  She  said  the 
Queen  had  been  in  great  perplexity  to  hear  of  any- 
body that  did  it — adding  that  she  had  never  known 
anybody  that  did  it.  '  Oh,  ma'am,  I  have  known 
people  that  did  it.'  '  Indeed  !  It  is  very  surprising,' 
said  the  Queen.'  " 

At  a  dinner  at  Lord  Granville's  he  once  took  Lady 
Dufferin  in  and  sat  between  her  and  Lady  Canning. 
"  I  made  a  funny  mistake  as  to  Lady  D.  being  Lord 
D.'s  wife  instead  of  mother,  but  she  only  said  (colouring 
very  prettily)  '  I  will  look  over  it,'  and  shook  hands 
very  cordially  at  parting." 

"  Stirling  of  Keir,"  he  says  (afterwards  Sir  Wilham 


74  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

Maxwell,  married  later  to  Mrs.  Norton),  "had  all 
manner  of  humour — that  of  pumiing  amongst 
the  rest.  One  day  he  took  Alfred  and  Miss 
Seymour  (Lady  Rawlinson),  John  Fortescue,  and 
myself  in  a  drag  to  Dunmore  Castle,  punning  all  the 
way.  Arrived  there,  the  head  gardener  was  very 
assiduous  in  showing  us  everything.  We  arrived  at 
an  indifferent  lily  with  a  fine  name.  '  Pray,  Mr. 
Mackenzie,'  said  Stirhng,  '  Is  this  lily  of  any  particular 
valley  ?  '     '  Oh,  no,  sir,  some  eighteenpence  or  so.'  " 

"  I  sate  at  dinner  (30.  5.  1868)  next  an  exceedingly 
pretty,  good-tempered,  but  not  very  w^ll  instructed 
young  lady,  who  spoke  in  a  sort  of  rapid  way,  rather 
indicative  of  self-consciousness.  She  got  upon  Ten- 
nyson and  condemned  him  because  '  all  his  ideas  are 
alike,'  and  she  should  like  to  know  what  he  meant  by 
the  '  Eggs  of  the  Moon.'  She  must  have  heard  some- 
body refer  to  two  lines  in  Aylmer's  Field,  for  it  is  not 
likely  that  she  had  read  it.  So  to  humour  her  mistake 
I  said,  *  Oh,  you  mean  the  lines — 

All  addled,  like  the  stale  eggs  of  the  Moon 
Smelt  in  the  music  of  the  nightingale. 

The  nightingale  only  lays  one  egg  a  month,  and  hers 
are  therefore  called  Moon's  eggs.'    'Ah, I  understand  it 
now,  but  I  never  did  before  you  repeated  it !  '  " 
The  real  lines  being  : 

But  where  a  passion  yet  unborn  perhaps 
Lay  hidden  as  the  music  of  the  moon 
Sleeps  in  the  plain  eggs  of  the  nightingale. 


THE    FRIEND    OF   THE    "APOSTLES"     75 

"  To  Mrs.  Milnes  Gaskell,  where  Archbishop  Manning, 
Lord  Wensleydale,  etc.  Amusing  to  see  the  eagerness 
of  young  ladies  to  be  made  acquainted  with  the  R.  C. 
prelate.  Afterwards  to  Lady  Russell's.  A  great 
crowd,  but  it  did  not  appear  to  contain  much  cream 
of  the  cream,  only  abundance  of  one's  own  personal 
acquaintance.  Probably  600  persons  there."  Here 
he  comments  soberly.  "  Amongst  the  great,  real 
blood  and  breeding  even  without  its  accidents  of 
wealth  and  power  are  reverenced  ;  not  so  the  real 
aristocracy  of  intellect,  which  without  its  accidents  of 
reputation  goes  for  nothing." 

"  Lord  Cowper  at  dinner  to-night.  Very  pleasant 
and  amusing,  but  oudacious  flattering.  The  most 
flattering  thing  told  was  that  it  used  to  be  said  of  the 
late  Lady  Ashburton  that  she  had  had  a  tiff  with  every 
friend  she  had  except  Carlyle  and  myself.  '  She  told  me,' 
said  Lord  Cowper,  '  that  once  she  was  at  outs  with 
Brougham,  and  meeting  him  at  dinner  happened  to 
be  placed  in  the  chair  next  him,  when  she  called  out 
loud,  '  Will  any  lady  change  places  with  me,  for  Lord 
Brougham  and  I  don't  speak."  I  inquired  if  this 
was  the  commencement  of  a  reconciliation.  '  Not  a 
bit  of  it ;  not  a  bit  of  it.'  Venables  walked  back  with 
me  as  far  as  Cambridge  House,  where  we  fell  in  with 
Carlyle." 

"  There's  nothing  equal  to  Carlyle,"  was  Brookfield's 
favourite  saying — a  saying  admittedly  stolen  from 
Lady  Ashburton.  After  the  death  of  Thackeray  the 
two  met  by  arrangement  more  often  than  they  had 


76  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

done  before,  and  were  together  whenever  they  could 
manage  it ;  for  they  entirely  satisfied  each  other,  and 
were  at  perfect  ease  in  each  other's  society.  Brook- 
field  liked  everything  connected  with  Carlyle,  his 
works,  his  appearance,  his  habits, — even  his  rough- 
nesses. Many  were  the  hours  of  close  intimacy  passed 
together,  when  almost  in  silence  they  smoked,  only 
speaking  as  the  fit  seized  them.  Carlyle  sitting  upon 
the  floor,  his  back  against  the  column  of  the  mantel- 
piece— smoking  energetically — one  fist  beating  his 
knee,  the  other  the  ground  ;  or  looking  into  Brook- 
field's  face  with  sharp  and  introspective  eyes,  de- 
scribing past  or  present  events  in  vigorous  terms, 
illustrating  them  with  gestures  of  the  pipe  ;  humour 
and  Homeric  laughter  flowing  from  them  both  when 
talk  was  gay  ;  profound  philosophy  or  scathing  dia- 
tribe when  it  was  grave. 

The  attraction  between  the  two  was  the  more  extra- 
ordinary in  that  Brookfield  admitted  openly  to  a  love 
for  natures  and  manners  of  greater  polish  than  his 
"  rough  sage  "  possessed,  but  he  had  gauged  the  man 
and  loved  him  long  before  he  was  a  "  lion."  Another 
remarkable  element  concerning  this  attachment  was 
that  Brookfield  had  a  friendship  equally  strong  and 
equally  sincere  for  Mrs.  Carlyle,  one  of  the  happiest 
of  his  rare  characteristics  being  that  in  any  household 
where  he  had  good  footing  he  had  the  affection  of 
every  member  of  it. 

"  I  detect  a  shght  affectation  for  the  Carlyle  dialect 
in  part  of  this  letter  for  which, '  I  prithee,  fellow  mimic. 


THE    FRIEND    OF   THE    "APOSTLES  "     ^^ 

mock  me  not/  "  he  said  once  to  his  betrothed.  Here 
he  was  using  the  word  coined  by  Milnes  for  Carlyle's 
style.  He,  himself,  though  he  thought  Carlyle  '*  the 
salt  of  the  earth,"  observed  in  early  days,  "  He  did 
not  think  Carlyle's  style  of  language  so  well  adapted 
to  philosophical  disquisition,  as  it  was  to  graphic 
delineation." 

In  the  same  letter  he  continues — 

"  Ah,  this  Easter  sunshine  that  is  gilding  our  high 
festival  over  Christendom — that  is  shining  on  the 
budding  spring — on  peaceful  villages,  on  happy  holi- 
day groups,  on  sweetest  family  reunions  !  how  it  is 
also  at  this  hour  quietly  sloping  upon  quiet  graves 
that  were  not  digged  last  Easter.  How  many  hearts 
are  this  day  gladdened  by  its  beams  that  '  ere  another 
Easter  will  have  ceased  to  beat,'  which  I  only  quote 
to  refer  you  to  the  original  words  which  you  will  find 
p.  242,  vol.  I,  of  French  Revolution.  They  are  not, 
however,  an  imitation  of  Carlyle,  only  suggested  by 
him." 

While  in  reply  she  said — 

"  How  you  do  gloat  and  glower  over  Carlyle's 
French  Revolution  !     You  must  have  it  by  heart." 

*'  Yesterday  before  dinner  the  veteran"  (Sir  Charles 
Elton)  "  fell  into  huge  raptures  with  Heroism,  and  oddly 
enough  suddenly  asked  me  to  read  a  page  or  two  which 
he  fixed  on  in  imitation  of  Carlyle  :  he  asked  it  seriously 
too,  said  it  was  for  the  purpose  of  giving  him  a  new 
impression  of  it.  Well,  I  had  never  heard  Carlyle 
read  and  could  only  conjecture  how  he  would  give 
out  his  own  writing.    I  was  overwhelmed  with  difficulty, 


78  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

but  nevertheless  took  heart — tried — and  all  said  it 
was  very  like.  I  rejoice  that  you  appreciate  Carlyle 
as  you  do." 

Having  learned  that  Carlyle  had  said  that  he  had 
received  a  bushel  and  a  half  of  letters  on  the  news  of 
his  election  as  Rector  of  Edinburgh — and  that  "  the 
one  which  had  given  him  the  most  pleasure  was  Brook- 
field's,"  he  says,  "  I  recalled  it  the  day  but  one  after 
written."      It  ran  thus — 

"  Dear  Carlyle, — 

"  I  have  hesitated  a  day  or  two  to  write  lest  like 
distant  relatives  remembering  '  birthday  of  our  dear 
cousin-thrice-removed,  the  Marquis  of  Fitz  Carrabas,' 
I  should  seem  to  claim  some  portion  of  that  spiritual 
affinity  which  is  implied  in  the  word  cow-gratulation. 
On  reflexion,  however,  the  scruple  seems  to  me  more 
timid  than  generous,  and  I  think  that  the  sentiments 
which — now  for  many  years — I  have  uniformly  cher- 
ished towards  the  most  serviceable  writer  of  his  day, 
as  I  esteem  him,  and  much  more  towards  the  person, 
may  entitle  me  to  say  that  nothing — nothing  I  mean 
of  such  a  nature  as  to  be  compared  with  it — ever  gave 
me  so  much  pleasure  as  the  announcement  of  your 
election  to  the  academic  throne  of  Edinburgh.  You 
have  taught  people  not  to  overvalue  demonstrative 
distinctions ;  but  it  is  a  real  pleasure  to  see  mankind 
touching  its  hat  to  its  heroes  when  it  does  find  them 
out  ;  tenfold  greater  when  the  hero  has  never  acceler- 
ated the  process  by  enhsting  drum  and  trumpet  in  his 
service. 

"  It  wall  save  you  writing  a  line  at  a  moment  when 
there  are  many  that  you  must  write  if  you  will  let  me 
interpret  silence  as  consent  that  some  evening  in  the 


THE    FRIEND    OF   THE    "APOSTLES"     79 

coming  weeks  I  may  approach  the  shrine  in  Cheyne 
Row  and  burn  there — as  an  act  of  homage — a  few 
grains  of  that  incense  which,  no  longer  tainted  with 
the  perspiration  of  a  '  pecuhar  institution/  grows 
upon  the  highly  flavoured  banks  of  York  River. 
*'  With  best  regards  to  the  Frau  Rector, 

"  W.  H.  B." 

In  his  diary,  Jan.,  1866. — "  Read  at  Bretton  (Lady 
M.  Beaumont's)  an  act  of  Macbeth  and  some  Elia — found 
that  the  latter  did  not  answer.  Too  stiff  and  pedantic 
in  style,  though  the  sentiments  are  exquisite."  Some 
evenings  later  he  was  at  the  Carlyles'  telhng  all  that 
had  happened  to  him,  all  that  he  had  observed  since 
last  they  met,  acting  each  scene  with  different  voices  as 
he  gave  it  out.  He  told  them  at  last  that  Bretton  had 
not  responded  to  Lamb,  when,  "  Carlyle  remembered 
having  known  him  a  little  about  the  year  1825,  but 
spoke  rather  slightingly  of  him  as  a  fatuity  not  worth 
consideration.  Mrs.  Carlyle  repeated  some  very  poor 
things  of  his  saying." 

13  February,  1866. —  '^At  Tyndall's  lecture  on 
heat,  I  sat  by  Spedding.  As  we  returned  on  foot 
Spedding  told  me  that  Carlyle  is  now  70,  being  four 
years  older  than  somebody  whom  Spedding  knows 
to  have  been  born  in  1800.  We  dined  with  Alfred 
and  Mrs.  Tennyson,  Spedding  and  Venables.  After 
dinner  an  evening  party  !  Duke  and  Duchess  of 
Argyle,  Lady  Boyne,  Mrs.  Gladstone,  the  Lockyers,  etc. 
etc.  Spedding  and  Venables  and  myself  staid  behind 
to  smoke  with  Alfred. 


8o  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

lyth  February.  "  To  Lady  Stanley  of  Alderley, 
where  was  a  great  crowd.  Standing  close  together 
were  to  be  seen  Alfred  Tennyson,  Browning,  Hough- 
ton, and  Carlyle,  and  by  way  of  a  not  less  remarkable 
group,  Lord  Shaftesbury  and  Sir  Alexander  Cockburn." 

A  night  or  two  after  this,  Brookfield  told  one  of  his 
hostesses,  Mrs.  Yorke,  that  in  a  quarter  of  a  century  he 
had  rarely  been  at  a  dull  dinner,  to  which  she  replied 
in  such  a  manner  that  he  "  wondered  at  his  own  dull- 
ness in  not  foreseeing  what  she  was  bound  to  say." 

The  Brookfields  were  amongst  the  last  people  who 
met  and  spoke  with  Mrs.  Carlyle,  and  on  her  sudden 
death  were  in  great  distress  to  know  how  best  to 
approach  the  bereaved  old  man. 

April  27,  1866.  Brookfield  writes  :  "  Walking 
with  Charlie  "  (his  Uttle  son)  "  this  morning,  I  met 
poor  old  Carlyle  just  opposite  the  Portrait  Exhibition. 
He  began  immediately  to  talk  about  his  loss.  '  The 
last  thing  in  the  world  that  he  was  prepared  for — no 
more  expectation  than  if  a  bolt  should  be  shot  from 
the  blue  heaven  and  fall  upon  his  head.  Returned 
yesterday  having  done  what  was  to  be  done.  He  and 
brother,  and  Twistelton,  and  John  Forster,  who  had 
been,  dear  fellow,  a  great  protection  to  me  .  .  .  Was 
not  able  to  talk  yet ;  but  after  a  while,  etc.,'  and  so 
he  squeezed  my  hand  and  went  his  way  bursting  with 
sobs  and  tears.  Speaking  of  Carlyle  to  Greg,  I  as- 
serted him  to  be  a  profoundly  religious  man.  '  Oh, 
yes,'  says  Greg,  *  that  is  always  very  noticeable  when 
you  find  a  man  with  a  rehgion  without  a  creed.' 


THE    FRIEND    OF    THE    "APOSTLES"     8i 

"  After  dinner  at  the  Speaker's.  Carlyle  told  me 
that  Q.  had  nourished  his  wife  on  George  Sand.  That 
they  were  once  both  together  at  C.'s,  and  talked  very 
loosely  about  the  conjugal  relations — that  C.  had 
delivered  some  severe  decision  upon  the  subject  and 
given  them  to  understand  that  persons  cherishing 
such  notions  had  no  place  in  decent  society.  .  .  ." 

Though  of  sociable  habits  Brookfield  was  an  inde- 
fatigable worker.  ''  The  busy  bee  is  a  drone  to  me/' 
he  once  said.  His  Preacherships  were  posts  that 
suited  his  talents,  and  according  to  Greville  and  those 
who  still  remember  him,  "  Nothing  could  be  more 
eloquent  than  his  language  or  more  ingenious  than  his 
arguments."  Venables,  who  could  not  go  to  one  of 
his  celebrated  discourses  on  some  celebrated  occa- 
sion, wrote  :  "  Shght  as  is  the  abstract  of  your 
yesterday's  discourse  in  The  Times  to-day  it  bears 
out  what  I  heard  last  night  of  its  beauty." 

Of  his  reading  aloud  there  was  also  an  unanimous 
opinion,  which  can  be  as  well  expressed  in  the  words 
of  Sir  Frederick  Pollock  (an  eminent  "  Apostle ") 
as  in   any  others  : — 

"  My  dear  Brookfield, — 

"  When  last  night  I  deviated  from  the  path  of  virtue, 
I  knew  that  I  was  incurring  a  great  loss  in  not  hearing 
you  at  the  Royal  Institution.  The  consciousness  of 
my  error  interfered  with  the  guilty  pleasures  of  the 
festive  board,  to  which  I  had  been  summoned  to  ani- 
mate a  coat  and  waistcoat.  But  I  did  not  know  how 
much  I  had  lost  until  I  came  home  and  found  my  wife 
waiting  and  eager  to  tell  me  of  your  very  beautiful 


82  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

lecture  and  reading  of  that  finest  piece  of  pathos  in 
any  language,  on  hearing  which  it  may  be  asked  of 
every  one — si  non  piangi,  di  che  pianger  suoti  ? 

*'  She  is  in  a  state  of  delight,  and  from  her  I  have  had 
the  advantage  (wholly  unmerited  by  my  conduct)  of 
hearing  whole  pieces  and  sentences  of  what  fell  from 
you. 

*'  With  my  regards  and  congratulations  to  Mrs. 
Brookfield, 

"  I  am, 

'*  Yours  ever  truly, 

"  Pollock." 

Brookfield's  quaintnesses  were  as  often  as  not 
turned  against  himself.  When  Cowie  said  to  him  that  it 
was  the  warming  of  St.  Paul's  for  the"  Special  Preachers" 
which  had  produced  certain  injuries  to  the  roof  of  the 
Cathedral,  he  asked  interestedly  (himself  a  "Special 
Preacher  "),  "  Was  it  not  the  dry  rot  ?  " 

"  When  I  was  inducted  into  my  honorary  canonry 
of  St.  Paul's,"  he  says,  "  the  close  of  the  ceremony 
brought  me  into  the  Vestry,  where  the  officiating 
Canon  solemnly  presented  me  with  a  Bible,  saying, 
"  This  is  provided  for  your  spiritual  sustenance  .  .  . 
and  this  (placing  in  my  hands  a  stale  common  penny 
roll)  is  furnished  for  your  bodily  nourishment."  This 
roll  represented  the  Prebend  of  Ealdland.  It  was 
difficult  to  keep  grave." 

Brookfield  attained  no  academic  eminence.  This 
was  mainly  due  to  temperament,  but  partly  to  the 
fact  that  he  took  up  Classics,  whereas  we  are  assured 
by  his  contemporaries  that  his  natural  aptitude  was 


THE    FRIEND    OF   THE    "APOSTLES"      83 

for  Mathematics.  However,  if  he  failed  to  shine  forth 
as  a  scholar  himself  he  contributed  to  the  brightness 
of  other  lights — for  both  his  pupils,  Lord  Lyttelton 
and  Henry  Fitzmaurice  Hallam,  testified  by  their 
words  as  well  as  by  their  achievements  to  his  capacity 
as  a  tutor. 

It  was  not  alone  his  brilliancy — and  Venables,  Sped- 
ding,  and  most  of  the  "  Apostles  "  maintain  he  was 
"the  most  brilliant  of  their  lives'  acquaintances" — 
which  kept  him  the  affection  of  that  band.  It  was,  as 
they  all  confessed,  "  his  strong  and  noble  char- 
acter." 

For  Brookfield's  humour  was  not  the  mere  ability 
to  raise  a  laugh,  but  a  more  spiritual  and  far-reaching 
power — an  admixture  of  tenderness  and  irony,  the 
outcome  of  a  strongly  sympathetic  and  comprehensive 
nature.  This  gift,  as  well  as  others,  won  him  the  affec- 
tion and  confidence  of  each  of  the  remarkable  men 
dealt  with  in  this  book.  All  of  them,  as  the  following 
sketches  will  show,  loved  and  admired  their  "kindher 
trustier  J  Jacques." 


CHAPTER  V 

JOSEPH   WILLIAM   BLAKESLEY 

Clear-headed  friend,  whose  joyful  scorn, 

Edged  with  sharp  laughter,  cuts  atwain 
The  knots  that  tangle  human  creeds, 

The  wounding  cords  that  bind  and  strain 

The  heart  until  it  bleeds, 
Ray-fringed  eyelids  of  the  morn 

Roof  not  a  glance  so  keen  as  thine  : 

If  aught  of  prophecy  be  mine, 
Thou  wilt  not  live  in  vain. 

(Tennyson.) 

"'Clear-headed  friend  '  is  the  most  ludicrously  flat 
beginning  of  a  serious  poem  that  we  have  ever  seen 
proceed  from  a  real  poet.  ...  In  the  same  verses 
'  kingly  intellect '  is  at  least  in  that  connexion  a  phrase 
of  vague  rhetoric." 

When  John  Sterling  wrote  thus  in  an  article  on 
Tennyson,  which  he  supphed  to  the  Quarterly,  he 
was  stating  an  opinion  in  much  the  same  manner 
he  would  have  stated  it  before  the  "  Conversazione 
Society  ;  "  and  as  he  probably  did  state  it  at  the 
time  the  hues  were  written  :  Tennyson,  erect,  gi\'ing 
forth  his  verses  ore  rotundo,  appreciative  "  Apostles  " 
all  around  him — Sterling  alone  critical.  It  was  the 
prosiness  of   the  expression  which   offended,  not   the 


Joseph   JJllliain  Blakcslcy 

From  a  crayon  drawing  by  Samuel  Laurence,  1842 


JOSEPH    WILLIAM    BLAKESLEY  85 

epithet,  which  he,  and  all  of  them,  knew  to  be  pre- 
eminently descriptive  of  the  intellectual,  amiable, 
joyous  Blakesley,  to  whom  the  poem  was  dedicated  ; 
whose  lucid  insights  and  swift  judgments  were  the  envy 
as  well  as  the  admiration  of  some  of  his  less  acute 
brethren.  The  verses  too  were  amongst  the  earliest  of 
the  Poet's  college-day  efforts — and  if  they  have  not  the 
gracious  finish  of  those  that  immediately  follow,  they 
show  he  had  mature  knowledge  of  character,  and  better 
still — the  instinct  of  friendship. 

Joseph  Wilham  Blakesley  went  to  Corpus  Christi 
at  the  end  of  1827,  having  already  attained  high 
distinction  at  St.  Paul's  schools.  His  first  year  (1827-8) 
was  a  red  letter  year  for  him  and  for  the  University, 
for  he  found  himself  there  "  freshman  "  with  Arthur 
Hallam  and  Alfred  Tennyson  ;  and  Cambridge  saw 
as  his  companions  BuUer,  Kemble,  Milnes,  Spedding, 
Sterling,  and  Trench  ;  Lushington,  Venables  and 
Brookfield  were  a  year  or  so  later. 

Blakesley,  a  fine  classical  scholar,  immediately 
achieved  distinction;  he  commanded  the  benign  in- 
terest^ of  the  University  authorities  and  assumed,  by 
right  of  his  "  acute  practical  mind  "  and  "  master 
intellect,"  a  leading  position  amongst  his  fellows. 

He  joined  the  ''Apostles"  at  Kemble's  introduction, 
and  at  the  Saturday  discussions  spoke  with  lucidity  and 
decision.  He  was  ever  generous  in  debate  ;  he  would 
allow  his  opponents  as  much  latitude  as  they  sought. 
But  he  was  never  to  be  caught  by  false  logic  ;  with 
'*  joyful  scorn  "  he  broke  up  specious  theories,  with 


86  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

crystal  clearness  he  would  show  the  fallacy  of  following 
prophets  who  were  hardly  sure  of  themselves.  He  was 
not  one  of  those  who  imagined  that  the  human  intel- 
lect was  capable  of  reducing  all  the  mysteries  of  philoso- 
phy and  science  into  so  many  packets  of  component 
parts.  He  was — if  such  a  thing  could  be,  where  all  were 
mutually  beloved,  a  favourite  amongst  the  "  Apostles." 
Kemble  delighted  in  his  "  equably  minded  Blakes- 
ley,"  and  Tennyson  said  ''he  ought  to  be  Lord  Chan- 
cellor, for  he  is  a  subtle  and  powerful  reasoner,  and  an 
honest  man  "  ;  with  the  others  he  was  a  friend  whom 
they  all  loved  as  they  admired  him.  When  after  a 
time  he  discovered  that  most  of  his  friends  and  all  of 
his  interests  were  in  Trinity,  he  decided  to  follow  them 
thither ;  thus  bringing  the  whole  of  the  set  dealt  with 
here — with  the  exception  of  Venables — within  the 
precincts  of  one  College.  Even  in  so  small  a  number  of 
"  Apostles  "  as  this  one  particular  band,  it  is  possible 
to  note  the  difference  in  the  natures  of  them  and  the 
way  they,  with  all  their  common  causes,  formed  into 
natural  cliques.  Blakesley  belonged  to  what  may  be 
called  the  poetic  as  distinct  from  the  philosophic  set. 
No  matter  how  late  they  stayed  over  their  collocu- 
tions  the  "  Apostles,"  most  of  them,  would  rise  early 
on  Sunday ;  and,  in  batches  of  threes  and  fours,  they 
would  breakfast  together,  and  afterwards  take  long 
walks.  Blakesley  loved  these  walks  and  talks  perhaps 
better  than  any  other  of  their  meetings — for  Nature 
spoke  her  story  to  him.  Once  he  reminded  Trench 
of  one  of  these  wanderings  : — 


JOSEPH    WILLIAM    BLAKESLEY  87 

"  Write  to  me  soon.  I  have  survived  almost  all  my  old 
friends  in  the  University,  and  feel  but  httle  inchnation 
to  make  new.  Hardly  a  Sunday  passes  ^without  my 
calhng  to  mind  how  Kemble,  you  and  myself  used  to 
breakfast  together  and  afterwards  to  walk  mto  the 
country,  telhng  strange  stories  of  the  deaths  of  Kmgs. 
...  The  faithful"  (namely,  the  "  Apostles  ")  '^desire 
to  be  affectionately  remembered  to  you." 

Another  time  he  said:  "I  shall  expect  a  letter 
from  Kemble  and  yourself  very  speedily.  Tell  me 
all  that  you  do  and  think  in  your  delectable  privacy. 
I  shall  not  require  news."  This  anxiety  to  know  his 
friends'  thoughts  shows  the  mental  attitude  of  all  these 
young  philosophers.  They  were  constantly  analyzing 
one  another's  ideas  as  well  as  their  own,  which  doubt- 
less developed  their  intellectual  sympathies,  though 
sometimes,  perhaps,  at  the  expense  of  spontaneity. 

He  was  fond  of  Tennyson,  and  one  of  the  first  of  his 
admirers,  but  he  much  dishked  his  smoking  habits, 
and  often  grumbled  concerning  them:— 

"  Kemble  is  in  town;  he  is  reading  law  five  hours  a 
day  (or  at  least  was  doing  so  before  Alfred  Tennyson 
came  up  to  town),  for  now  these  five  hours  are  consumed 
(together  with  much  shag  tobacco)  in  sweet  dis- 
course on  Poesy,  and  besides  this  he  finds  time  to 
write  articles  in  the  Foreign  Quarterly  and  a  book  on 
Anglo-Saxon,  without  which  he  says  no  one  can  under- 
stand English,  and  which  he  says  no  one  can  understand 
without  understanding  the  other  Teutonic  dialects." 

When  Tennyson  asked  him,  as  he  asked  all  his 


8S  THE    CAMBRIDGE    ''APOSTLES** 

friends,  what  he  thought  of  his  publishing  his  "  Poems, 
chiefly  Lyrical,"  Blakesley  repHed  : — 

"  The  present  race  of  monstrous  opinions  and  feel- 
ings which  pervade  the  age  require  the  arm  of  a  strong 
Iconoclast.  A  volume  of  poetry  written  in  a  proper 
spirit,  a  spirit  like  that  which  a  vigorous  mind  indues 
by  the  study  of  Wordsworth  and  Shelley,  would  be, 
at  the  present  juncture,  the  greatest  benefit  the 
world  could  receive.  And  more  benefit  would  accrue 
from  it  than  from  all  the  exertions  of  the  Jeremy 
Benthamites  and  Millians,  if  they  were  to  continue  for 
ever  and  a  day." 

Thus  pithily  conveying  his  personal  estimate  of 
those  philosophies  and  their  adherents. 

When  Trench  went  '*  down,"  Blakesley  commenced 
and  carried  on  an  intimate  correspondence  with  him, 
and  when  he  was  in  Spain,  sent  him  "  Apostolic  " 
news. 

"  You  ought  to  come  home.  The  salt  of  the  earth  is 
too  scanty  to  allow  of  its  being  as  yet  scattered  over  the 
face  of  the  earth.  We  have  a  handful  of  men  in  Cam- 
bridge who  will  continue  the  race  of  the  Maurices  and 
Sterlings,  and  cherish  an  untiring  faith  in  the  unde- 
feated energies  of  man.  The  majority  of  the  Apostles 
are  decidedly  of  the  proper  way  of  thinking,  and 
the  society  is  in  a  flourishing  state.  We  are  now 
twelve  in  number,  and  those  whom  we  shall  lose 
this  Christmas  are  by  no  means  the  best.  I  think 
that  we  are  now  in  a  better  state,  and  that  the  tone 
of  our  debates  is  higher  than  it  has  ever  been  since 
the  giants  were  on  the  earth.   .    .    . 

"  I  told  you  that  the  Apostles  were  in  a  flourishing 


JOSEPH    WILLIAM    BLAKESLEY  89 

state.  A  society  of  the  same  kind  has  been  established 
by  Hallam  at  Oxford.  .  .  .  Milnes  is  now  an  Apostle. 
The  society  doth  not,  I  think,  gain  much  from  him, 
but  he  will  leave  Cambridge  in  a  few  weeks.  .  .  . 
The  society  had  received  a  great  addition  in  Hallam 
and  A.  T.,the  author  of  the  last  prize  poem — Timbuc- 
too — truly  one  of  the  mighty  of  the  earth.  You  will 
be  delighted  with  him  when  you  see  him." 

The  ''salt  of  the  earth"  was  a  phrase  borrowed 
from  SheUey  ^and  much  used  by  the  "  Apostles  "  when 
under  that  poet's  influence  as  well  as  afterwards. 

You  will  see  Hunt,  one  of  those  happy  souls 
Which  are  the  salt  of  the  earth,  and  without  whom 
The  world  would  smell  like  what  it  is — a  tomb. 

When  Trench  and  Kemble  were  in  Spain  on  the 
Torrijos  business,  Blakesley  still  fed  them  with  Cam- 
bridge news.  He,  with  his  calm  judgment,  and  Ven- 
ables,  with  his  strong  and  equally  balanced  mind, 
were  the  two  who  were  least  in  sympathy  with  that 
unhappy  "  cause,"  yet  Blakesley  followed  the  under- 
taking with  interest,  and  wrote  to  Gibraltar  in  order 
to  cheer  the  revolutionists  when  affairs  there  looked 
desperate  ;  for  which  Trench  said  gratefully  to  Donne— 

"  Blakesley  was  a  good  boy  and  wrote  me  a  letter. 
It  was  kind  and  subtle  and  mournful — a  shrewd  knave. 
Indeed,  I  look  upon  himself  and  you,  Donne  "  (the  Rev. 
W.  Bodham  Donne — also  an  Apostle)  "  as  the  only 
two  amongst  us  who  will  not  be  brokendown  traders 
before  we  are  twenty-six." 


90  THE    CAMBRIDGE    ''APOSTLES" 

Blakesley  took  his  degree  in  1831,  and  club-making 
being  in  the  air,  "  fathered  a  new  debating  society 
called  the  'Fifty.'"  He  continued  to  be  much  as 
ever  with  the '  Apostles/  "  even  after  he  had  accepted 
a  tutorship  :  and  his  sharp  criticisms,  delivered  with 
unvarying  amiability  and  utter  absence  of  pomp,  were 
ever  welcome. 

It  was  when  Blakesley  was  a  tutor  that  he  was  once 
asked  by  a  perplexed  undergraduate,  reading  for  orders  : 
"  Pray,  Sir,  do  you  consider  that  eternal  punishment 
will  consist  in  moral  or  in  physical  suffering  ?  "  "Why,'  " 
said  Blakesley,  a  little  puzzled  between  the  conflicting 
claims  of  orthodoxy,  common  sense  and  prudence, 
"I  should  incline  to  think  moral."  "Oh,  I  am  so 
relieved  to  hear  you  say  so  !  " 

To  Trench,  who  had  now  taken  orders,  he  wrote  in 

1834- 

"  The  faithful  here  prosper.  We  have  great  hopes 
of  being  able  in  the  course  of  the  present  term  to  add 
two  or  three  very  promising  grafts  on  to  the  old  stock. 
This  is  the  more  desirable,  as,  in  my  opinion,  the 
Society  is  becoming  rather  too  old — that  is,  the  individ- 
uals composing  it  at  present  are  so.  .  .  .  It  is  pos- 
sible you  may  not  have  seen  a  hst  of  the  new  Trinity 
fellows.  Three  are  of  the  number  of  the  good  and 
wise — Thompson,  Lushington,  and  Alford —  .  .  . 
We,  of  course,  exult  much  in  the  election  of  Thompson. 
He  made  a  great  sensation  among  the  examiners,  and 
although  he  did  not  come  in  first,  is  considered  by  them 
as  certainly  the  first  man  of  the  whole." 

It  is  curious  to  note  the  characteristic  attitude  of 


JOSEPH    WILLIAM    BLAKESLEY  91 

all  these  men,  in  their  first  youthful  presumption, 
towards  Carlyle.  In  the  beginning,  they  spurned  him 
with  high  disdain ;  in  the  end,  they  one  and  all  came 
round  to  him,  and  sat  at  his  feet  in  awe  and  admira- 
tion. Blakesley —  always  good  friends  with  Milnes— 
was  found,  after  he  had  come  to  the  knowledge  of 
Carlyle's  worth,  writing  and  begging  that  gentleman 
to  get  names  of  people  who  were  wilHng  to  purchase 
Sartor  Resartus,  saying — 

**  It  seems  the  booksellers  will  not  reprint  the  work 
unless  they  can  be  sure  of  selling  three  hundred  copies. 
I  should  have  thought  the  cormorants  had  picked 
enough  from  the  bones  of  successful  authors  to  allow 
them  to  take  poor  Carlyle's  carcase  for  better  for 
worse." 

Brookfield  when  he  first  entered  the  Church  had  a 
craving  to  become  a  Navy  chaplain.  To  Blakesley, 
who  exerted  himself  to  procure  him  a  nomination, 
he  wrote  as  follows — 

''Southampton, 

''December  2,  1839. 
"  My  Dear  Blakesley, — 

"  I  have  this  morning  received  a  letter  from  Lyttel- 
ton  acquainting  me  with  your  thoughtful  kindness 
in  offering  to  propose  me  for  the  Chaplaincy  of  the 
Blonde  ;  but  at  the  same  time  rightly  conjecturing 
that  the  time  is  gone  by  for  my  accepting  the  situa- 
tion. Three  years  ago  such  an  opportunity  might 
perhaps  have  seriously  affected  my  destinies — but 
now  I  have  undergone  a  change  outward  and  inward — 
by  which  I  only  mean  in  stomach  and  in  circumstances 


92  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

— which  render  salt  junk  and  grog  and  the  parochial 
confines  of  a  46  less  adapted  than  formerly  to 
my  tastes  and  aspirations.  To  be  grave,  I  have 
lain  long  enough  in  the  land  of  Lilliput  to  be  bound 
down  by  many  threads  of  habit  and  affection  and 
ambition  (I  don't  know  that  I  mean  anything  defined 
by  the  last  word — but  it  suits  the  rhythm  of 
the  sentence)  which  effectually  hinder  my  being 
metamorphosed  into  a  sea  priest.  Does  a  Chaplain 
wear  fins  ?  and  so  all  things  considered — with  every 
homage  to  Capt.  Bourchier  and  H.M.S.  Blonde,  I  must 
elect  to  brave  a  little  longer  the  perils  of  tiles  and 
chimneypots  and  die  a  dryer  death. 

"I  assure  you  that  I  feel  sincerely  grateful  to  you  for 
remembering  me  in  this  matter  and  should  be  heartily 
glad  of  an  opportunity  of  thanking  you  personally. 
If  I  were  a  little  more  contagious  and  had  two  cloaks — 
I  think  I  should  assay  Xmas  socialities  of  Trinity,  but 
alas  I  am  '  remote — unfriended — melancholy — slow — ' 
and  as  poor  as  a  Mendicant  friar  without  his  resources. 

'^Do  your  occasions  never  bring  you  to  such  places 
as  Southampton  ?  I  am  '  but  a  Lodger,'  but  I  have 
some  Madeira  and  a  friend  that  has  credit  with  a  butcher. 
If  any  sprightly  kick  from  the  foot  of  Destiny  should 
lift  you  here  I  beseech  you  draw  me  and  I  will  quarter 
you.  I  have  with  me  a  sort  of  half  pupil,  whole 
boarder,  Lord  Orford's  second  son  aged  22.  He  is 
quite  blind — but  keeps  a  dog.  I  spent  a  few  days 
very  pleasantly  with  Charles  Buller  a  few  weeks  ago 
at  Sir  Charles  Hulse's  in  this  county.  He  was  in 
high  feather — but  had  not  imported  so  much  fun  from 
Canada  as  I  expected.  I  not  infrequently  see  Trench, 
who  is  only  six  miles  off — I  am  going  there  for  a  few 
days  next  week.  He  has  written  delightful  poems 
since   he   last   published.     All   rehgious    and   chiefly 


JOSEPH   WILLIAM   BLAKESLEY  93 

legendary — from    oriental    sources     made     available 
through  the  sucking  bottle  of  German  translation.     I 
have  occasionally  the  pleasure  of  hearing  of  you  but 
should  be  much  happer  if  it  were  from  you. 
''  Ever  yours  very  sincerely, 

*'W.  H.  Brookfield. 
^'Pray  remember  me  heartily  to  deserving  men  of 
my  knowledge  that  may  be  up — Thompson — Venables 
— the  Master  "  (Wordsworth)  ''  and  the  rest — but  who 
may  be  up  I  cannot  conjecture." 

When  young  Lord  Lyttelton  went  to  Cambridge  he 
was  consigned  by  Brookfield,  his  late  private  tutor,  to 
the  charge  of  his  old  friend  Blakesley  ;  and  it  was 
under  his  auspices  that  his  lordship  became  in  due 
course  inducted  as  an  "  Apostle."  When  he  was 
chosen  to  contest  the  post  of  High  Steward  mth  Lord 
Lyndhurst  (considerably  his  senior)  our  "  Apostles  " 
past  and  present  mustered  in  full  force  to  support 
him  and  worked  for  him  with  unhmited  energy  and 
enthusiasm.  Again  there  were  wondrous  meetings, 
'*  celebrations,"  and  "  magnificent  talks,"  and  such 
was  their  exhilaration  at  the  fact  of  being  once  more  all 
together,  that  they  were  but  httle  dashed  by  their 
opponent's  victory. 

Blakesley,  as  secretary  at  Cambridge  to  the  Lyttel- 
ton Committee,  wrote  all  the  letters  and  notices  con- 
nected with  this  election  with  his  own  hand.  Lord 
John  Manners  (afterwards  seventh  Duke  of  Rutland, 
whose  loss  we  have  only  recently  had  to  deplore), 
chairman  of  the  London  Committee,  organized  the 
business  of  getting  the  members  of  the  Senate  to  the 


94  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

poll,  and  gave  gallant  names  to  the  coaches  which 
were  to  carry  those  gentlemen  from  London  to  Cam- 
bridge. Brookfield  was  secretary  to  the  London 
Committee,  and  a  vast  correspondence  ensued  between 
Cambridge  and  London. 

"  Trin  :  Col  :  Cam  : 

''October  15,  '40. 
"  My  Dear  Bbookfield, — 

Hitherto  we  have  been  delayed  in  re  Lyttelto7ii  by 
the  provoking  silence  of  the  M.C.  who  has  neglected  to 
answer  a  letter  written  to  him  up  to  the  present  moment. 
This  morning  however  a  notice  has  been  sent  forth  by 
the  Vice  Master,  calling  upon  the  friends  of  Lord  L. 
to  meet  to-morrow  at  one  o'clock  in  the  Combination 
Room  of  Trinity.  He  will  be  the  College  Candidate 
and  have  all,  or  nearly  all,  the  residents,  including  the 
Vice  Master,  all  the  tutors  and  Professor  Whewell. 
This  may  be  talked  about  to-day  ;  to-morrow  do  you 
meet  the  Rocket  when  it  comes  in  at  Fetter  Lane, 
when  you  will  receive  an  account  of  the  meeting 
which  ought  to  appear  in  the  papers  of  Saturday.  This 
I  shall  depend  on  your  managing. 
"Ever  Yours, 

"  J.  W.  Blakesley." 

Brookfield's  share  in  this  has  been  unfortunately  lost. 

"  Trin  :  Col  :  Cam  : 

"  October   19,    '40. 

"  My  Dear  Brookfield, — 

"  Many  thanks  for  your  efficient  service.  To-day 
all  the  machinery  has  been  got  into  such  a  state  that 
we  can  start  the  instant  we  receive  Lyttelton's  consent 


JOSEPH    WILLIAM    BLAKESLEY  95 

and  address  which  we  trust  will  be  to-morrow  morning. 
To-morrow  John  Heath,  Neville  Grenville,  and  Hughes 
— all  accredited  agents — will  come  up  to  London  by 
the  Telegraph  and  proceed  to  the  British  Coffee 
House  :  you  are  requested  to  meet  them  at  the  Tele- 
graph as  it  comes  in  :  and  to  conduct  them  to  the 
Committee  room  which  early  in  the  morning  you  will 
have  secured  at  the  British  Coffee.  A  small  room  if  no 
other  is  to  be  had  will  do  for  a  beginning.  If  possible, 
get  the  Duke  of  Northumberland's  old  one  :  there 
will  be  a  stink  of  Conservatism  in  it  which  will  be 
most  precious  to  us  :  for  our  great  danger  is  from  the 
enemy  getting  up  a  Whig  and  Tory  cry.  Secure  Ven- 
ables  and  as  many  Conservatives  as  you  can.  Macau- 
lay  will  be  invaluable.  All  the  Whigs  we  reckon  upon 
without  fail,  but  hke  the  guards  at  Waterloo,  although 
they  are  to  win  the  battle  at  last,  they  must  not 
show  themselves  at  the  beginning. 
"  Ever  yours, 

^'J.  W.  Blakesley." 

Frederick  Denison  Maurice,  then  chaplain  at  Guy's, 
was  not  one  of  the  least  excited  over  this  business  :  he 
wrote  to  John  Kemble,  who  was  working  the  election 
with  his  usual  whole-heartedness — 

"  Guy's  Hospital, 

''October  24,  '40. 
*'  My  Dear  Kemble, — 

''  For  the  last  five  or  six  days  I  have  been  more 
interested  in  the  Cambridge  elections  than  in  almost 
any  other  matter,  though  unfortunately  I  have  been 
able  to  do  almost  nothing.  I  wrote  very  earnestly 
to  Hare  on  Monday  and  found  from  his  answer  that 
he  felt  as  strongly  as  I  did,  but  he  said  there  were 


96  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

very  few    Masters  of   the  Senate  in   his   neighbour- 
hood. 

''  I  have  been  hbelHng  Lord  Lyndhurst  in  a  Magazine 
of  which  I  am  editor  and  which  circulates  some  few 
copies  among  clergy  in  the  country ;  but  I  am 
afraid  if  my  words  did  carry  the  least  weight,  they 
will  come  too  late  to  be  useful.  I  think  it  is  the 
most  important  contest  that  has  been  carried  on  for 
years,  and  one  that  may  do  more  than  almost  any 
movement  I  can  think  of  to  frighten  knaves  and 
encourage  honest  men.  I  have  said  more  than  once 
that  as  a  clergyman  I  should  much  more  care  to 
keep  Lord  Lyndhurst  out  of  Cambridge  than  Hanner 
out  of  London. 

"  Yours  very  truly, 

"  F.  Maurice." 

"It  was  quite  clear  to  me  from  the  multitude  of 
Hildyards  in  Lord  Lyndhurst's  first  meeting  that  the 
whole  was  got  up  by  a  mission  from  the  Carlton 
Club.  Could  not  you  find  some  way  of  making 
people  feel  the  infinite  disgrace  of  such  a  conge 
d'elire  ?  " 

But  Maurice  and  all  were  doomed  to  disappoint- 
ment— Lord  Lyndhurst  carried  the  day  by  a  large 
majority.  Charles  Merivale,  also  an  "  Apostle,"  gives  a 
vivid  picture  of  the  election  itself. 

"  With  respect  to  our  late  disaster,  what  is  there 
to  say,  except  that  like  Francis  I,  we  have  lost  our 
honours,  but  nothing  else.  .  .  .  The  scene  in  the 
Senate  House  baffles  all  description !  There  were 
the  young  barbarians  at  play  in  the  gallery,  their 
spirits  and  their  ferocity  keeping  pace  with  the  rising 


JOSEPH    WILLIAM    BLAKESLEY  97 

majority,  so  that  it  became  hardly  possible  to  endure 
the  place.  Lyttelton  stood  it  through  with  great 
pluck.  He  and  the  Master  got  hissed  in  the  Ante- 
Chapel  the  next  evening."  Immediately  the  polling 
was  over  the  "  practical  "  minded  Blakesley  wished 
to  see  the  business  part  of  it  transacted  and^finished 
with. 

''  Trin  :  Col  : 

''  November  ig,  '40. 
"  My  Dear  Brookfield, — 

"  You  are  right  in  your  supposition  as  to  the  Globe 
bill.     It  hung  back  in   the  crowd  of  papers  which 
encumber  my  table  and  got  shut  out  of  the  envelope. 
I  send  it,  however,  herewith,  and  at  the  same  time 
another  document  which  came  to-day  by  the  post  ; 
though  how   I   should  ever  have   acquired  such   an 
European    reputation    as    to    induce    Messrs    Roake 
and  Varty,  sensible  people,  no  doubt,  to  send  bills 
contracted  in  London  to  me,   I  cannot  understand. 
If  they  take  me  for  a  man  who  loves  paying  money 
for  its  own  sake,  they  are,  as  the  laymen  say,  devilish 
wrong.     By  the  way,  it  is  very  far  from  impossible 
that  Heywood  (who  I  dare  say  is  the  author  of  the 
letter    from   *  A  Dissenter '   which    appeared  in    the 
Chronicle  and  did  its  poor  part  to  injure  the   cause) 
would   take   it   very   kind   if   the   Committee   would 
consider  him  responsible  for  the  debts  of  the  contest. 
Pray  ascertain  this  point  before  more  subscriptions 
are    collected  :    and    in    the    meantime    countersign 
and  send  down  as  much  as  you  can  persuade  Kemble 
to  relinquish.     His  final  conclusion  is  perfect. 
''  Ever  Yours 

"  J.  W.  Blakesley." 

7-(23i8) 


98  THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

**  I  rejoice  at  even  the  prospect  of  seeing  land  in 
the  matter  of  the  Bills.  They  are  not,  as  far  as  I 
can  judge,  so  large  as  I  feared  they  would  be,  although 
the  item  for  the  British  Coffee  House  is  fearful.  I 
was  singularly  delighted  to  observe  Kemble's  counter- 
signature. I  suppose  he  got  into  the  habit  of  approval 
as  Deputy  Chamberlain,  and  permits  everything  that 
comes  in  his  way." 

Kemble's  father  was  licenser  of  plays,  and  there- 
fore in  the  Lord  Chamberlain's  office,  hence  this 
allusion. 

"  Trin  :  Col  : 

"  November  24,  '40. 
"  My  Dear  Brookfield, — 

''  Be  kind  enough  to  send  not  less  than  700  copies 
of  Lord  Lyttelton's  circular  of  thanks  to  us  here  ;  after 
the  first  sheet  the  additional  expense  is  only  that  of 
paper  and  press  work.  Be  careful  to  have  them 
struck  off  on  paper  as  thin  as  will  be  decent.  We 
intend  to  send  them  together  with  a  printed  list  of 
the  Poll  and  Pairs  to  all  Lord  Lyt.'s  supporters.  The 
verbal  alterations  proceed  from  his  lordship,  who, 
pro  more  suo,  never  thought  for  an  instant  of  the 
absurdity  produced  by  the  divarication  of  his 
letter  from  the  advertised  '  copy  of  it.'  I  only  thank 
God  he  did  not  re-write  it,  and  trust  the  age  of  colla- 
tion went  out  with  Porson,  and  that  the  fact  of 
the  new  edition  will  not  be  remarked  by  the  verbal 
criticism   of  the  Scholefieldian   era. 

"  Very  many  thanks  to  you  for  the  trouble  you 
have  taken  in  the  matter  of  Flaxman's  outlines. 
Pray  do  not  imagine  that  the  matter  is  a  very  urgent 
one — that  you  should  fast  for  me  on  week-days,  as 


JOSEPH    WILLIAM    BLAKESLEY  99 

well  as  pray  for  the  Bishop  of  London  on  Sunday. 
'"  Has  not  Lord  John  Manners  advanced  various 
sums  ?  These  kind  of  accounts  ought  to  be  settled 
immediately." 

Lord  Lyttelton  in  speaking  of  Blakesley's  assistance 
to  him  at  this  moment  said  :  "He  managed  all 
for  me  at  Cambridge,  for  which  I  hope  he  will  be  made 
Archbishop  of  York." 

Brookfield,  fond  of  walking  about  London  and 
peeping  into  book  shops,  had  told  Blakesley  of  some 
books  he  wanted  to  purchase.  These  were  the  Iliad 
and  the  Odyssey,  Mschylus  and  Dante;  but  although 
unboundedly  pleased  to  become  possessed  of  this  classic 
literature,  election  bills  still  distressed  him. 

"  Caro  mio, — 

"  I  have  awaited  for  some  days,  with  a  patience 
worthy  of  a  better  cause,  the  Bill  of  Mr  Fownes, 
which  appears  between  Lord  John  and  you  likely  to  fall 
to  the  ground.  Pray  temper  your  evangelical  detest- 
ation of  Scribes  and  Pharisees  enough  to  enable 
you  to  fulfil  the  works  of  the  Law  to  the  unhappy 
individual  of  the  former  class  who  has  submitted 
his  fate  to  your  decision. 

''  I  send  back  the  Drummond  list,  wishing  to  know 
the  items  of  the  £49  which  were  contributed  by  the 
Rev.  Mr.  Brookfield.  Also  did  the  five  pound  note 
which  reached  me  come  from  Mr.  Meyer  Rothschild, 
who  is  commonly  believed  to  employ  such  gear  in 
curling  his  locks  ?  Finding  a  name  without  money, 
and  money  without  a  name,  I  felt  inclined  to  put 
them   together  :    but    I    should   prefer    some    better 


100        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

authority  for  such  a  step  than  sound  principles  of 
conjectural  criticism. 

''  If  the  British  Coffee  House  bill  cannot  be  reduced, 
it  had  better  be  paid.  Nevertheless  I  hold  the  Land- 
lord for  a  rogue — one  of  those  "  beggarly  elements  " 
which  St.  Paul  holds  so  cheap  !  " 

In  this  year,  early  in  the  days  of  railways,  when 
Brookfield  had  asked  him  once  to  preach  for  him, 
Blakesley  replied  : 

"  My  Dear  Brookfield, — 

"  I  intend,  if  sound  in  wind  and  limb,  to  be  in 
London  both  on  the  20th  and  the  27th  of  this  month, 
on  either  one  of  which  days  I  will,  if  you  want  me, 
do  my  best  for  you  and  the  National  Schools.  It 
is  but  fair  however  to  tell  you  that  I  contemplate 
performing  three  railroad  journeys  before  the  former, 
and  five  antecedently  to  the  latter  of  them  :  so  that 
the  proverbial  uncertainty  of  human  life  is  perhaps 
more  than  usually  apphcable  in  this  case.  I  con- 
fess, too,  with  all  due  respect  for  myself,  that  I 
think  you  might  find  many  persons  who  would  succeed 
better  than  myself  in  extracting  silver  from  the 
breeches-pockets  of  the  Regent  Street  population. 
I  feel  quite  sure  that  I  should  not  be  humbugged  by 
myself,  and  I  suppose  one  is  at  least  as  much  influ- 
enced by  one's  own  arguments  as  anybody  else  is 
likely  to  be.  However,  I  will  never  be  so  base  as  to 
retract  in  leisure  a  promise  made  in  haste  :  so  believe 
me, 

''  Yours  to  command, 

''J.  W.  Blakesley." 

A  fortnight  later  Brookfield  writes  to  Miss  Elton — 


JOSEPH    WILLIAM    BLAKESLEY         loi 

"  In  the  chapel,  which  was  considerably  full,  I 
discerned  your  friends.  Oddly  enough,  Blakesley, 
who  helped  Ward  at  Sacrament  (wearing  therein  my 
shoes)  dined  with  Fanny  and  her  friends  same  evening 
and  came  in  at  eleven  at  night  to  consume  a  cigar 
or  so  with  me  and  told  me  how  he  had  been  hearing 
me  bepraised  by  these  ladies.  Blakesley  is  a  fine 
fellow  in  the  finest  sense  of  fine." 

During  this  visit  of  Blakesley  to  London  he  was 
in  the  habit  with  other  "  Apostles  "of  "  concluding 
the  evening  in  Brookfield's  rooms." 

Brookfield  writes  :  "I  returned  early  to  finish  a 
sermon — found  your  letter — why  do  you  use  such 
execrable  httle  shabby  tea-party  envelopes  ?  Or- 
dered a  pewter  pint  of  porter  on  the  strength  of 
it  and  a  pipe,  had  my  paper  spread  before  me — wrote 
now  and  then — sipped,  wrote,  whiffed,  wrote,  whiffed, 
sipped,  whiffed,  sipped,  wrote — when  in  came  that  same 
Blakesley  whom  you  inquire  about  and  sate  till  nearly 
twelve,  throwing  me  into  the  short  hours  to  finish  my 
sermon .  He  laughed  violently  at  my  pewter  pint,  etc . , 
and  the  spiritualities  blended  up  therewith.  He  must 
be  your  man ;  he  is  dark-haired,  dark-eyed.  Visited 
Trench  last  year — called  with  him  one  day  while  I 
was  at  your  house.  Trench  knows  no  other  Blakes- 
ley, nor  do  I.  But  he  is  Cambridge,  not  oxford.  As 
a  tutor  of  Trinity,  Blakesley — a  capital  point  for  rising 
— is  all  in  a  fidget  to  be  married,  and  will  take  the  first 
favourable  opportunity  of  spurning  tutorship  with  all 
its  remote  appendices  of  Deaneries  and  Bishoprics  and 
take  him  to  a  domestic  Hfe." 


102        THE     CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

In  writing  back  Miss  Elton  said  she  had  told  the 
WilHses  the  news  of  Blakesley  which  they  had  required, 
and  that  he  was  a  "friend  of  Brookfield,"  when  they 
all  exclaimed  "  he  was  just  the  person  who  would  be  a 
friend  of  Brookfield's,  so  very  clever  and  agreeable 
and  delightful/' and  that  when  they  first  saw  you  they 
all  said  you  were  "  just  a  Blakesley  sort  of  man, 
but  fancying  him  oxford,  they  never  inquired  whether 
you  knew  him." 

When  Brookfield  married,  Blakesley  sent  him  the 
following — 

"31  January. 
"  Dear  Brookfield, — 

"  I  never  read  newspapers  and  therefore  often  fail 
to  learn  the  great  changes  which  take  place  from  time 
to  time  in  human  relations.  I,  however,  learnt  from 
the  aspiring  heir  of  Hagley  (as  the  newspapers,  with 
an  alhteration  hardly  appreciable  out  of  Worcestershire 
or  London,  called  him)  that  you  had  incurred  that 
responsibility  which  College  fellows  sometimes  hear  of, 
with  a  sigh  or  smile,  as  the  case  may  be.  I  was  in  hopes 
of  meeting  you  at  the  Sterhng  Club  on  Tuesday  last, 
but  I  suppose  you  are  as  yet  confined  to  a  honey  diet. 
God  help  you,  I  mean  bless  you  !  You  have  my  warmest 
congratulations,  which  I  would  deliver  in  person, 
and  crave  the  honour  of  an  introduction  to  Mrs.  B. 
were  it  not  that  business  will  take  me  city-wards  at 
an  hour  earher  than  that  at  which  decency  permits 
a  visit.  I  intend,  however,  to  ask  a  boon  of  you, 
namely  to  leave  a  copy  of  a  certain  discourse  which 
I  will  send  to  you  at  the  Albany  for  Lord  John  Manners, 
together  with  another  for  Smyth — his  fidus  Achates. 


JOSEPH    WILLIAM    BLAKESLEY  103 

Garden,  too,  I  will  desire  to  call  upon   you  for  one 
that  I  will  also  enclose." 

This  was  probably  his  pamphlet  upon  "  Where  does 
the  evil  lie  ?  " 

Blakesley  gave  up  his  tutorship  in  1845,  married 
and  settled  down  in  the  living  of  Ware.  In  1846,  he 
wrote — 

"  My  Dear  Brookfield, 

*'  At  dinner  time  yesterday  here  a  discussion  arose 
which  terminated  in  two  bets,  my  mother-in-law 
taking  one  side,  and  my  brother-in-law  and  myself 
the  other.  We  are  all  very  anxious  to  get  our  money, 
and  as  I  think  you  may  probably  be  in  London  I 
write  to  you  to  ask  you  to  ascertain  the  facts  of  the 
case ;  the  phenomenon  which  caused  our  dispute 
existing,  I  believe,  in  your  parish.  A  beadle  has 
occasionally  been  seen  to  exercise  his  authority  in 
the  Regent's  Quadrant,  and  what  we  want  to  know 
is  whether  this  functionary  is  maintained  at  the  expense 
of  the  inhabitants  for  purposes  of  their  own,  or 
whether  he  is  a  policeman  clad  in  the  garb  of  beadledom 
for  the  sake  of  appearances,  or  whether  he  is  the 
Porter  at  Swan  and  Edgar's  (which  I  rather  suspect), 
or  whether  he  does  not  exist  except  in  imagination. 
If  he  is  ens  reale,  we  wish  to  know  whether  he  is  in 
constant  pay,  or  merely  retained  for  field  days.  Pray 
investigate  the  subject  and  let  us  know  :  for  none  of 
us  know  anybody  likely  to  give  information  except 
yourself  and  the  Editor  of  Bell's  Life  in  London. 

''  I  am  rusticating  for  the  present  month  with  wife 
and  child  in  this  land  of  turnips  and  pheasants — very 
well,  except  that  I  am  sickening  with  the  cow-pox. 


104        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

My  son  having  been  infected  with  this  disease,  my 
wife  declared  she  should  feel  much  more  comfortable 
if  I  also  were  vaccinated^  and  I  was  weak  enough  to 
comply.  I  daiesay  when  he  begins  to  cut  his  teeth 
I  shall  be  obliged  to  submit  to  the  lancing  of  my  gums, 
and  take  a  few  doses  of  Godfrey's  Real  Comfort  to 
mothers. 

''  I  hope  you  have  good  accounts  of  Mrs.  Brookfield, 
I  was  compelled  to  remain  a  widower  for  a  fortnight, 
and  disapprove  of  the  condition.  College  is  the  only 
place  for  celibacy. 

^'Ever  yours  truly, 

'^J.  W.  Blakesley." 

The  above  Beadle  may  have  been  he,  who,  when  asked 
with  regard  to  some  fire  that  had  just  taken  place  "  Was 
the  watchman  sober  ?  "  repHed,  "  For  anything  I  know 
he  was;  but  all  Public  characters  get  drunk  some- 
times." 

It  was  an  extraordinary  thing  that  a  man  of  such  bril- 
liant attainments  as  J.  W.  Blakesley,  should  have  been 
left  the  best  part  of  his  hfe  in  retirement ;  but  it  was 
with  him  as  it  was  with  many  others  at  that  time — the 
political  powers  had  no  sympathy  with  the  spiritual ; 
in  fact,  there  are  periods  when  Governments  seem 
afraid  to  give  posts  to  intellectual  men,  and  the 
middle  of  the  nineteenth  century  was  one  of  these. 
However,  Blakesley  was  happy  in  his  calm  way ;  he  was 
amongst  other  things  Master  of  the  Mercers'  Company ; 
he  saw  much  of  his  Cambridge  friends  ;  and  he  wrote 
his  charming  essays  for  The  Times ;  he  was  that  "  Hert- 
fordshire Incumbent "    whose    shrewd    observations 


JOSEPH    WILLIAM    BLAKESLEY         105 

and  pleasant  criticisms  gave  so  much  pleasure  in 
their  day ;  but  his  chief  work  was  an  edition  of 
Herodotus  for  the  Bihliotheca  Classica.  In  1863  he 
received  a  canonry  of  St.  Paul's,  and  in  1872,  at  the 
age  of  sixty-four,  when  his  life  was  almost  done,  he 
was  given  by  Gladstone  the  deanery  of  Lincoln. 
To  Brookfield,  who  wrote  to  congratulate  him  on 
this  event,  he  replied  : — 

"  Dear  Brookfield, — 

"  Many  thanks  for  your  kind  congratulations  on 
the  subject  of  my  appointment.  It  was  entirely 
unsohcited  by  me,  but  is  not  the  less  welcome. 
Declining  years  and  the  increasing  difficulty  of  obtain- 
ing decent  curates  (in  such  a  place  as  this)  remove 
all  doubts  which  I  might  otherwise  have  had  about 
exchanging  my  present  for  my  future  preferment. 

I  never  saw  Lincoln  till  I  got  the  offer  of  the 
Deanery,  and  pictured  it  to  myself  as  a  kind  of  '  Veila  ' 
surrounded  by  marshes  and  vainly  endeavouring  by 
the  cathedral  services  to  drown  the  roaring  of  the 
bulls  and  croaking  of  the  frogs  that  inhabited  them. 
Since  my  hurried  visit,  the  week  before  last,  I  have 
come  to  a  better  mind,  and  even  look  with  some 
dread  on  the  loftiness  of  the  hill  on  which  I  shall 
have  to  live.  About  the  bulls,  indeed,  I  am  not 
sure  that  I  was  so  very  far  wrong.  The  quantity  of 
cattle  trucks,  mostly  filled,  which  met  my  eye  at  the 
different  stations,  filled  me  with  amazement,  and  I 
find  that  the  manufactures  at  Lincoln  are  almost  exclu- 
sively engaged  in  the  production  of  agricultural  instru- 
ments. It  is  rather  hard  to  be  exposed  to  the  dan- 
gers of  being  choked  by  smoke  and  gored  by  oxen 
in  the  same  place  :  and  Mrs.  Blakesley  has  a  particular 


io6        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

dread  of  horned  cattle,  which  makes  me  keep  Suffolk 
cows  in  consequence  of  it.  And  as  to  your  kind  thought 
of  an  admonition  to  *  go  up  higher  ' — a  more-than- 
sexagenarian,  who  has  just  mounted  from  the  rail 
way  station  to  the  deanery,  might  be  tempted  to 
reply  in  extremely  improper  phraseology  to  any  such 
suggestion.  Pray  make  our  best  remembrances  to 
Mrs  BRookfield   and   beheve    me, 

"Very  truly  yours, 

"  J.  W.  Blakesley." 

"  I  observe  you  date  from  the  '  Rolls  House,'  and 
as  I  learn  from  Jerome  that  this  is  what  is  commonly 
called  Bethlehem,  I  entrust  this  letter  to  a  friend  who 
is  going  to  Palestine  to  post  at  Joppa." 

A  man  of  crystal  clearness  of  intellect,  high  prin- 
ciples— amiable  and  straightforward — well  might 
Tennyson  say  that  before  him — 

Low-cowering  shall  the  Sophist  sit  ; 

Falsehood  shall  bare  her  plaited  brow  ; 

Fair-fronted  Truth  shall  droop  not  now 
With  shrilling  shafts  of  subtle  wit. 
Nor  mart5Ar-flames,  nor  trenchant  swords 

Can  do  away  that  ancient  lie  ; 

A  gentler  death  shall  Falsehood  die, 
Shot  thro'  with  cunning  words. 


CHAPTER  VI 

CHARLES    BULLER 

Farewell  !  fine  humourist,  finer  reasoner  still, 
Lively  as  Luttrell,  logical  as  Mill, 
Lamented  Buller — just  as  each  new  hour 
Knit  thy  stray  forces  into  steadfast  power. 
Death  shut  thy  progress  from  admiring  eyes, 
And  gave  thy  soul's  completion  to  the  skies. 

(BuLWER  Lytton.) 

The  "  Apostles "  of  the  first  five  years  of  the 
"  Society's "  existence,  possessed  minds  of  a  totally 
different  calibre  to  those  of  the  follo\ving  lustre. 
They  were  deeper,  heavier  and  possibly  a  little 
narrower.  Charles  Buller,  although  by  date  of  mem- 
bership belonging  to  the  serious  earlier'  period,  by 
temperament  appertained  to  the  later  and  lighter  era. 
It  was  not  the  wont  of  the  early  Apostles  to  choose 
their  associates  on  account  of  any  mirthfulness  of 
disposition  ;  and  Charles  Buller,  a  worthy  aspirant 
for  "  Apostohc  "  honours,  was  approved  of  by  them 
solely  on  account  of  his  logical  mind  and  in  spite  of 
his  lively  qualities.  That  hghtness  of  spirit  was 
discouraged  by  the  ^'Society"  is  shown  on  several 
occasions,  notably  when  some  of  the  sterner  souls 


io8        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

marked  their  disapprobation  of  Monckton  Milnes' 
gaiety.  If  Buller,  once  an  ''Apostle/'  shocked  some  of 
the  more  grave,  he  attracted,  dehghted,  and  endeared 
himself  to  those  gifted  wdth  a  sense  of  humour.  Gay, 
amiable,  endowed  with  the  sense  of  proportion  which 
characterises  bright  natures  such  as  his,  and  equipped 
with  the  gift  of  raillery,  he,  with  such  kindred  spirits 
as  Milnes,  Merivale,  Blakesley,  and  Kemble,  were  an 
invaluable  element  in  the  "  Society."  For  they  con- 
trived to  "  smile  away  "  a  tendency  which  was  grow- 
ing among  their  abnormally  gifted  fellows  to  attach 
too  much  weight  to  their  own  opinions,  which  threat- 
ened to  develop  into  that  most  un-Cantabrigian  of 
qualities  which  is  nowadays  called  ''  priggishness." 

His  liveliness  was  inherited  from  his  mother,  a  beau- 
tiful person,  sparkling,  and  partly  Irish,"  an  ingenu- 
ously intelligent  woman  of  the  gossamer  type " — 
a  lady  who,  when  her  son  was  returned  to  Parliament, 
asked  "  What  could  be  recommended  for  a  young 
man  who  wished  to  acquire  parHamentary  confidence  ? 
Was  artificial  excitement  advisable  for  a  very  nervous 
man  ?  .  .  .  So-and-so,  she  understood,  took  opium." 
At  Harrow,  where  livehness  was  not  considered  a 
"  first  principle,"  the  son  of  this  briUiant  lady  was 
scarcely  appreciated.  Full  of  "  airy  ingenuity  "  and 
having  the  keenest  sense  for  everything  "from  the 
subhme  to  the  ridiculous  "  his  spirits  soared  higher 
perhaps  than  youthful  spirits  had  ever  soared  before, 
and  the  height  of  their  flight  may  be  the  reason  that 
he  was  ne\'er  found  walking  in  beaten  tracks.     How- 


Charles  Buller 

From  a  painiing  by  B.  E.  Duppa,  Esq. 


CHARLES    BULLER  109 

ever,  before  he  left  that  school  he  managed  to  show 
that  he  had  valuable  gifts.  His  aptitude  for  study 
was  extraordinary — and  though  the  sense  of  appli- 
cation in  those  early  days  was  missing — he  yet  gave 
many  proofs  of  a  quick  and  intelligent  mind.  It 
was  at  Harrow  that  he  first  made  friends  with  John 
Sterling. 

A  "  handful"  at  home  and  too  young  for  college 
the  question  of  the  disposal  of  this  gay  genius  became 
a  difficult  one  ;  but  just  as  his  parents  were  in  despair, 
a  visit  to  Edinburgh  brought  about  an  introduction 
to  Carlyle.  Carlyle  was  told  beforehand  that  the 
lad  was  "  clever  but  too  mercurial  and  unmanageable  "; 
but  this  he  waived  and  resolved  to  take  him,  and  in  a 
happy  hour  Charles  Buller  became  the  sage's  happy 
pupil.  By  some  strange  attraction,  the  volatile 
youth  and  the  staid  philosopher  took  to  each  other, 
and  became  fast  friends,  But  it  is  a  fact  that  the  gay, 
the  frank-minded  and  genial-spirited  seem  always  to 
have  got  on  well  with  Carlyle,  to  have  hked  him  and 
been  liked  by  him  and  accepted  at  their  true  value.  He 
had  apparently  a  more  gracious  manner  for  these  than 
for  those  with  natures  more  like  to  his  own — the  rough 
and  taciturn.  *'  From  the  first,"  he  says,  "  I  found  my 
Charles  Buller  a  most  manageable,  intelligent,  cheery, 
and  altogether  welcome  and  intelligible  phenomenon  ; 
quite  a  bit  of  sunshine  in  my  dreary  Edinburgh  element ; 
I  was  in  waiting  for  his  brother  and  him  when  they 
landed.  We  instantly  set  out  on  a  walk,  round  by  the 
foot  of  Salisbury  Crags,  up  from   Holyrood,  by  the 


no        THE    CAMBRIDGE  "APOSTLES" 

Castle,  and  Law  Courts,  home  again  to  George  Square  ; 
and  really  I  recollect  few  more  pleasant  walks  in 
all  my  life  !  So  all-intelligent,  seizing  everything 
said  to  him  with  such  a  recognition,  so  loyal-hearted, 
chivalrous,  guileless,  so  dehghted  (evidently)  \vith 
me,  as  I  was  with  him.  Charles,  by  his  qualities,  his 
ingenious  curiosities,  his  brilliancy  of  faculty  and 
character,  was  actually  an  entertainment  to  me  rather 
than  a  labour."  As  time  went  on  Carlyle  waxed  more 
and  more  enthusiastic  over  the  promising  youth,  and 
vowed  he  far  surpassed  himself  in  Latin  and  Greek.  "  I 
tried  to  guide  him  into  reading,"  he  said,  ''into  solid 
inquiry  and  reflection.  He  got  some  mathematics 
from  me  and  might  have  had  more.  He  got,  in  brief, 
what  expansion  into  such  wider  fields  of  intellect  and 
more  manful  modes  of  thinking  and  working  as  my 
poor  possibihties  could  lead  him  ;  and  was  always 
generously  grateful  to  me  afterwards." 

When  Buller  finally  parted  with  Carlyle  as  a  tutor, 
he  went  to  Trinity  College,  Cambridge.  This  was  in 
1826.  It  was  Sterling  who  made  him  an  "Apostle" 
and  introduced  him  to  intellectual  society  there.  His 
essays  were  considered  to  be  brilliant,  his  criticisms 
still  more  so,  but  it  was  as  a  conversationalist  that 
he  was  most  highly  esteemed — even  though  "  a  mas- 
tery of  banter  sometimes  led  him  to  the  verge  of 
levity."  Having,  however,  some  gravity  beneath  his 
lightness,  he  went  perforce  with  Trench,  Kemble, 
Sterling  and  others  through  their  Niebiihric-Ben- 
thamic  period  ;   a  period  when  they  talked  themselves 


CHARLES    BULLER  in 

to  "  exhaustion  " — some  of  them  mentally  as  well  as 
ph3rsically.  In  later  days,  Buller  was  able  to  smile 
back  on  this  period  and  say  cheerfully,  "  He  had 
grown  out  of  being  a  UtiHtarian.  Benthamites  had 
very  good  hearts  but  wanted  intellects." 

He  took  his  degree  in  1828,  and  immediately  put 
up  for  Parliament.  The  shortness  of  his  residence  at 
the  University  rather  cut  him  off  from  the  ''  Apostohc  " 
set  to  which  he  belonged  by  right  and  placed  him  out 
of  the  Poetic  Band  of  1828-32  ;  but  considering  his 
many  and  different  interests  he  kept  up  his  associa- 
tion with  the  Society  fairly  well.  His  career  was 
followed  with  the  sincerest  interest  by  those  he  left 
behind  him  at  Cambridge,  and  Blakesley  soon 
wrote :  "  The  two  Bullers  are  canvassing  Liskeard 
in  Cornwall  for  Charles ;  but  the  electors  are  so 
delighted  with  both  that  they  do  not  know  how  to 
divide  them  and  are  quite  disgusted  with  the  Reform 
Bill  for  only  leaving  them  one  Member." 

He  was  returned  for  Liskeard,  a  seat  he  kept  ever 
after,  and  Kemble,  who  had  always  the  fondest  beUef 
in  the  genius  of  his  fellows,  says :  "  Charles  Buller  is 
in  Parliament.  He  made  a  maiden  speech  the  other 
night,  which  was  evidently  very  comic,  though  infam- 
ously reported  in  the  papers.  You  will  see  him  make 
a  figure  one  of  these  days."  Another  "  Apostle " 
thought  Buller  had  in  no  way  done  himself  justice  in 
the  House,  and  another,  noting  there  was  a  "  morne 
silence  "  after  his  first  outburst,  opined — "  I  suppose 
Buller  dare  not  speak  ;  his  Radicalism  and  his  family 


112        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

interests  are  so  fearfully  at  war  with  each  other." 
The    special    questions    with    which    his    political 
career  is  most  intimately  connected  are  the  housing  of 
the  Pubhc  Records ;  the  Canadian  Mission  of  1837-38  ; 
and  the  question  of  Pauperism  ;  all  of  which  he  dealt 
with  with  wonderful  ability  and  clearness  of  vision. 
When  the  Houses  of  Parliament  were  burnt  in  1834 
a  quantity  of  the  Records,  formerly  housed  in  West- 
minster Hall,  narrowly  escaped  destruction.  Sir  Henry 
Cole  (who  practically  founded  the  South  Kensington 
Museum,  and  who  was  afterwards  Assistant  Keeper  of 
the  Records)  presently  agitated  with  great  energy  for  a 
new  and  safer  system  for  the  safe  keeping  of  these  pre- 
cious, documents  but  no  attention  was  paid  to  his  com- 
plaints.    He  appealed  to  Lord  Brougham,  who  replied 
that  "  he  should  be  heard  in  time  if  he  would  only 
keep  quiet."     Sir  Henry  would  not  keep  quiet,  but 
went  to  Charles  BuUer,  who,  being  a  man  of  culture 
and  intelligence,  sympathized  with  him  and  his  cause, 
and  at  once  took  the  question  to  the  House.     There 
he  moved  that  an  inquiry  should  be  held  to  investigate 
the  conduct  of  the  Commissioners  of  the  Public  Records, 
and  "  so  great  was  his  wdt  and  delicacy  in  enlivening 
this   dry   subject   that   the   House   was   enchanted." 
Lord  John  Russell,  then  leader  of  the  House,  said  it 
was  greatly  indebted  to  Mr.  Buller  for  bringing  the 
matter  before  them,  and  a  portion  of  Buller' s  speech 
on  this  subject  runs — 

"  The   public   records,    it   was    quite    unnecessary 


CHARLES    BULLER  113 

for  him  to  remind  the  House,  were,  whether  they 
respected  private  property,  or  the  means  of  au- 
thentic history,  of  extreme  value.  The  Commission 
had  sat  now  many  years,  and  was  estabhshed  in 
consequence  of  an  address  from  the  House  of  Com- 
mons in  the  year  1800.  The  annual  grants  to  the 
Commissioners  had  varied  from  £5,000  to  £20,000. 
Small  as  the  annual  amount  was,  yet  the  House 
would  certainly  think  it  a  matter  worthy  of  being 
inquired  into,  when  they  found  that  since  the  forma- 
tion of  the  Commission  about  £400,000  had  been  voted 
by  Parhament  towards  its  expenditure. 

''  Besides  this  enormous  expenditure,  it  now  appeared 
that  this  Commission  was  actually  in  debt  to  the  amount 
of  £20,000.  A  portion  of  the  pubHc  money  entrusted 
to  the  Commissioners,  had  been  devoted  to  publishing 
in  the  various  languages  of  Europe,  an  account  of 
the  Commission,  and  a  full  detail  of  the  names  and 
titles  of  the  Commissioners.  He  held  in  his  hand 
a  Portuguese  pamphlet  on  the  subject,  in  which  the 
names  of  the  Commissioners  were  given,  no  doubt  in 
the  purest  Portuguese.  The  honourable  member  for 
Montgomery  (Mr.  C.Wynn)  was  designated  *0  muito 
nobre  Carlos  Watkins  Wilhams  Wynn.'  The  honour- 
able baronet,  the  member  for  Oxford,  had  a  most 
romantic  title,  '  Sir  Roberto  Harry  Inghs.'  That  was 
one  of  the  ways  in  which  the  public  money  was  spent — 
making  the  style  and  title  of  the  Commissioners 
known  all  over  Europe,  from  Lisbon  to  Hamburgh. 
Even  the  Secretary  to  the  Commission  is  immortalized 
in  the  printed  proceedings  of  the  Board  as  '  Viro 
illustrio,  excellentissimo,  clarissimo,  doctissimo  C.P. 
Coopero  equiti  Anglo '    .    .    . 

''The  principal  objects  of  the  Commission  were  the 
care  of  the  records,  their  preservation,  and  perpetua- 

8-(23i8) 


114        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

tion,  by  means  of  transcription  of  such  as  had  become 
nearly  defaced  by  time  or  accident.  It  appeared 
by  the  last  parliamentary  returns  of  the  Commis- 
sioners' expenditure  that  only  £1,500  had  been 
spent  on  what  he  would  call  the  most  important 
object  for  which  they  were  appointed,  namely, 
on  the  arrangement  of  the  records.  What  was  the 
present  state  of  those  important  documents  ?  Con- 
sidering that  the  object  of  the  Commission  was  the 
preservation  of  the  records  and  the  affording  easy 
accessibihty  to  them,  the  method  in  which  the 
records  were  kept  was  perfectly  scandalous.  They 
were  scattered  about  in  eight  or  ten  different  offices, 
in  different  parts  of  the  town.  Those  at  Somerset 
House  were  in  underground  vaults,  where  the  light 
of  the  sun  never  penetrated.  Fires  were  lighted  in 
these  vaults  for  the  purpose  of  dispelling  the  damp, 
and  the  result  was  that  the  records  were  alternately 
damp  and  dry,  the  destructive  effects  of  which  changes 
he  need  hardly  point  out  ;  he  feared  they  might  have 
operated  extensively  already.  A  very  picturesque 
description  had  been  given  in  a  report  of  some  stal- 
actite found  in  one  of  these  vaults  by  the  honourable 
baronet  (Sir  R.  Inghs)  ;  stalactites  were  interesting 
objects  to  the  geologist,  but  he  (Mr.  C.  Buller)  thought  a 
Record  office  an  inappropriate  place  for  their  growth. 
Mr.  Illingworth,  who  was  very  familiar  with  these 
records  and  their  situation,  stated  in  a  letter  that  he  was 
afraid  to  touch  them  on  account  of  their  dampness, 
lest  he  should  catch  the  rheumatism  in  his  hand.  In 
these  same  vaults  the  records  were  placed  so  high  on 
shelves,  some  sticking  out  like  bottles,  that  a  ladder 
must  be  obtained  to  reach  them  ;  and  then  there  was  the 
chance  of  falling  from  the  top  with  the  roll  upon  the 
adventurous  individual  who  made  the  experiment  :  no 


CHARLES    BULLER  115 

very  pleasant  predicament.  Surely  nothing  could  be 
more  evident  than  that  the  pubhc  records  of  a  nation 
ought  not  to  be  left  in  such  circumstances  ;  but  should  be 
placed  in  commodious  and  suitable  apartments,  in 
accessible  situations,  and  under  a  perfect  system  of 
arrangement.  As  to  the  miscellaneous  records  lately 
at  the  Mews,  and  now  at  Carlton-ride,  the  method  of 
keeping  them  was  most  ridiculous.  They  did  not 
talk  there  of  books,  and  manuscripts,  and  rolls,  like 
other  people,  but  they  described  the  records  by  sacks 
and  bushels.  They  would  tell  you  that  they  had  six 
hundred  and  fifty  sacks  of  records,  containing  eight 
bushels  apiece.  The  Commission  had  begun  some  little 
good  here ;  which  being  good^  was  mysteriously 
suspended.  The  papers  w^ere  sorted  by  years  in  sacks, 
so  that  if  you  wanted  a  document  for  such  a  year 
you  went  to  such  a  sack,  etc." 

This  was  his  first  important  speech  and  in  it  he 
"  hit  the  house  between  wind  and  water,"  and  he  became 
from  that  moment  a  favourite  debater,  "  none  so  well 
as  he  could  range  from  grave  to  gay,"  and  all  sides 
delighted  to  hear  him.  He  had  gained  the  ear  of  the 
House  and  he  never  afterwards  lost  it.  Whatever  the 
subject  he  took  up,  he  gave  to  it  all  his  time  and  all  his 
powers.  When  he  seconded  Monckton  Milnes  against 
Lord  Strong  in  New  Zealand,  somebody  said:  "  The 
case  was  so  good  in  itself  that  it  hardly  required  the 
great  abihty  that  Buller  showed."  The  Bill  for  the 
better  housing  of  the  Public  Records  was  passed  in 
1838,  and  all  England,  and  students  everywhere,  have 
reason  to  thank  Charles  Buller  for  his  signal  ser\dces 
and  to  be  grateful  for  the  triumph  he  then  achieved. 


ii6        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

His  patience,  ability,  and  capacity  for  hard  work 
led  to  his  being  chosen  by  Lord  Durham  to  go  \\dth  him 
as  private  secretary  on  his  mission  to  Canada.  Buller's 
Report  upon  that  business — for  that  it  was  he  who 
wrote  it  was  a  secret  de  Polichmelle— though  written 
when  he  himself  was  saddened  by  the  result,  (Brook- 
field,  who  was  staying  in  the  same  house  with  him 
soon  after  his  return  to  England  says  "  Buller  is 
much  chastened  by  Canada  ")  is  considered  to  be  for 
exactness,  delicacy,  and  diplomacy  combined  "  one 
of  the  ablest  and  most  effective  papers  of  the  age." 
This  document  seemed  to  have  removed  some 
of  the  grave  difficulties  which  then  existed  between 
England  and  Canada,  and  to  have  led  to  colonial 
administration  and  self-government,  privileges  which 
were  afterwards  extended  to  other  colonies.  It  was 
also  the  foundation,  as  well  as  a  goodly  part  of  the 
structure,  of  Harriet  Martineau's  Thirty  Years'  Peace. 

Buller  was  a  clever  barrister — a  Q.C.  who  con- 
ducted cases  before  the  Privy  Council — as  well  as  a 
Parliamentarian ;  and  his  legal  knowledge  combined 
with  his  tender  heart  led  him  to  take  up  with  enthu- 
siasm the  question  of  the  improvement  of  the  condi- 
tion of  the  poor.  He  saw  how  terrible  and  immense 
was  the  subject  and  he  did  not  shrink  from  grapphng 
with  it.  He  brought  his  own  pecuhar  talents  to  bear 
upon  his  task,  and  treated  the  situation  with  such 
firmness  and  perspicuity  that  his  knowledge  of  the  sub- 
ject becoming  by  application  as  well  as  by  interest 
a  special  one,  he  was  made  chief  administrator  of  the 


CHARLES    BULLER  117 

Poor  Law.  He  was  one  of  the  first  to  advocate 
emigration  as  a  means  of  lightening  the  weight  of 
pauperism  and  by  this  boldness  brought  a  storm  upon 
himself.  But  he  had  on  his  side  those  who  knew  the 
poor  face  to  face  and  who  were  heart  and  soul  interested 
in  their  welfare.  F.  D.  Maurice  was  one  of  these  and 
one  of  the  first  to  encourage  and  aid  him  in  his  wide 
spreading  schemes  of  practical  philanthropy.  In  the 
House,  BuUer  was  remarkable  for  his  reserved  and 
courtly  demeanour,  even  in  those  days  when  it  was  usual 
for  members  to  display  good  manners.  A  refined  sense 
of  humour  such  as  his  carried  with  it  a  sense  of 
fitness  ;  Monckton  Milnes,  a  kindred  gay  spirit,  was 
also  used  to  assume  a  special  parhamentary  manner, 
in  the  deference  then  deemed  due  to  the  dignity  of  the 
Speaker's  chair. 

The  sweet  ease  of  the  friendship  between  these  two 
extraordinary  men  may  be  gathered  from  the  intimacy 
of  a  remark  which  Buller  once  made  when  Milnes  had 
accomplished  something  still  more  fantastic  than  his 
usual  fantasies — "  I  often  think,  Milnes,  how  puzzled 
your  Maker  must  be  to  account  for  your  con- 
duct." 

It  was  Buller  who  first  introduced  Milnes  to  Carlyle, 
thereby  providing  the  gloomy  philosopher  with  a 
substitute  for  himself  when  he  should  be  gone.  Many 
a  ''  gorgeous  "  hour  the  two  spent  together  with  the 
cynic,  who  would  say  of  his  former  pupil :  "  Charles 
Buller,  you  are  the  most  genial  rascal  I  ever  met."  But 
Buller  was  one  of  Carlyle' s  enthusiasms :  he  delighted 


ii8        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "  APOSTLES '' 

in  him  and  trusted  him  ;  he  never  had  quite  the  same 
easy  confidence  in  Milnes. 

Side  by  side,  Buller  and  Milnes  together  for 
many  years  dazzled  and  surprised  society  with  their 
glittering  qualities  ;  but  when  Buller,  at  Lord  Mel- 
bourne's, said  that  he  was  jealous  of  Milnes  and 
feared  he  would  only  be  known  to  posterity  as  his 
contemporary,  it  was  an  arranged  speech  and  he 
probably  winked  at  Milnes  as  he  said  the  words.  Their 
great  play  was  to  cap  each  other's  jests  ;  by  prearrange- 
ment  they  would  roughly  expose  each  other's  supposed 
foibles,  and  leave  their  companions  to  wonder  how 
one  could  put  up  with  the  other  ;  a  form  of  joke  which 
to-day  would  not  be  tolerated.  It  suited  them  too 
to  be  considered  rival  wits — for  this  enabled  them 
to  play  off  any  plot  they  had  conceived — for  their 
own  amusement — against  any  of  the  company  they 
were  in  ;  it  also  gave  plausibility  to  any  amazing 
additions  they  might  choose  to  invent — for  the  amuse- 
ment of  their  friends — to  any  starthng  current  scandal. 

Their  great,  and  now  historic  jest,  was,  of  course, 
that  played  upon  the  occasion  of  the  Queen's  Fancy 
Ball  in  1842.  Meant  for  a  pohtical  squib  it  turned 
out  to  be  the  most  successful  hoax  of  modern  times. 
The  originator  was  Buller,  Milnes  was  his  cheerful 
assistant.  One  morning  it  was  gravely  reported  that 
in  the  French  Chamber  one  of  the  Ministers  had  asked 
"  If  the  French  Ambassador  in  London  had  been  invited 
to  the  Bal  Masque  given  for  the  purpose  of  awakening 
the  long  buried  griefs  of  France  in  the  disasters  of 


CHARLES    BULLER  "9 

Crecy,  Poictiers  and  the  loss  of  Calais  ?  "  The  Press 
was  the  most  deceived  by  this,  but  the  world  in  gen- 
eral was  taken  in  ;  the  subject  was  discussed  gravely 
in  the  Clubs,  and  all  over  the  country  crept  the  idea 
that  war  might  ensue.  Sir  Robert  Peel  was  told, 
"  There's  the  devil  to  pay  in  France  about  this  foohsh 
Ball."  But  the  genius  who  invented  the  joke  had 
reckoned  upon  this,  had  been  first  in  the  field,  and  earher 
—had  taken  Sir  Robert  into  his  confidence  !  It  was 
not  easy  to  clear  up  a  hoax  of  this  nature— the  deceived 
public  became  so  suspicious  that  they  would  not  believe 
the  truth  when  it  was  revealed  to  them,  so  that  the  jest 
had  a  long  life.  Buller  even  added  to  it  a  letter  written 
in  Latin  which  was  so  humorous  as  to  be  compared 
with  the  Epistolae  Obscuromm  Virorum—thongh  in 
the  end  this  in  some  degree  helped  to  quiet  things 
down.  This  joyous  gentleman  could  be  anything  but 
ill-natured  or  dull ;  he  was  classed  by  Milnes  as  a  popular 
inteUigence.  Greville  was  about  the  only  person  who 
did  not  entirely  appreciate  him ,  and  he  said — "  he 
knew  Buller  was  amusing,  but  he  was  too  much  of  a 
banterer  for  him  !  " 

For  many  reasons  Buller  did  not  keep  up  so  much 
with  the  "  Apostles  "  as  others  did  ;  but  he  often  at- 
tended the  yearly  dinner.  Like  most  of  his  "brethren" 
he  had  a  large  share  of  anecdote ;  these  indeed,  they  all 
seemed  to  collect;  not  only  for  their  own  amuse- 
ment, but  in  order  to  pass  them  on  to  others  and  out 
into  the  world.  His  friendship  was  extended  to  all 
whom  he  knew  with  any  degree  of  intimacy.     Between 


120        THE    CAMBRIDGE    ''  APOSTLES  " 

himself  and  Harriet,  Lady  Ashburton,  there  existed, 
from  the  time  he  met  her  at  the  sick  couch  of  his  brother 
in  Madeira,  a  charming  attachment  ;  the  brightness  of 
each  other's  intellectual  gifts  drew  them  together, 
and  a  similar  sympathy  with  all  philanthropic  schemes 
kept  them  friends.  The  times  at  the  Grange  when 
he  was  "  Master  of  the  Revels  "  were  indeed  pleasant 
ones,  though  not  perhaps  on  the  same  intellectual 
scale  as  during  the  period  that  immediately  followed. 

Thackeray  was  another  of  BuUer's  friends;  from 
the  time  they  met  at  Cambridge  they  kept  up  a  warm 
though  desultory  friendship,  but  when  the  great 
author  came  to  live  in  London,  there  was  opportunity 
for  closer  and  more  frequent  intercourse,  which  both 
eagerly  seized  upon  and  appreciated. 

There  was  a  physical  resemblance  between  the 
two  which  was  often  a  subject  of  banter.  Buller, 
like  Thackeray,  had  had  his  nose  broken  in  a  school 
encounter,  and  both  were  exceptionally  tall — Buller 
stood  six  feet  three  and  was  commonly  said  to  be  a 
yard  in  width. 

When  Buller  died,  Thackeray,  who  never  after- 
wards spoke  of  him  but  with  a  sigh,  introduced 
Brookfield  to  Lady  Ashburton — to,  in  some  sort, 
help  to  fill  up  the  great  gap  made  in  the  Grange 
circle.  Buller  was  still  fighting  the  pauper  question 
when  his  almost  sudden  death  in  1848,  came  as 
a  shock  to  London  and  to  all  who  knew  him. 
When  he  had  been  made  Judge  Advocate  some  time 
before,  he  had  refused  the  Privy  Councillorship,  which 


CHARLES    BULLER  121 

that  post  carried  with  it  ;  and  though  he  subsequently 
relented  and  accepted  it,  he  had  not  been  sworn  in 
when  he  died.  Only  a  fortnight  before  the  end  he 
was  the  gayest  of  a  gay  party  at  the  Grange.  Thack- 
eray, much  affected  by  the  news,  sent  a  special  messen- 
ger on  the  night  of  his  death  with  his  fine  letter  of  grief 
to  the  Brookfields;  and  he  wrote  as  well  his  well- 
known  lines  in  ''  Dr.  Birch." 

Who  knows  the  inscrutable  design  ? 
Blessed  be  He  who  took  and  gave. 
Why  should  your  mother,  Charles,  not  mine 
Be  weeping  at  her  darling's  grave  ? 
We  bow  to  Heaven  that  willed  it  so, 
That  darkly  rules  the  fate  of  all. 
That  sends  the  respite  or  the  blow, 
That's  free  to  give  or  to  recall. 

While  Milnes,  the  companion  of  his  lighter  hours, 
wrote  to  a  friend  :  *'  You  will  hear  by  this  mail  of 
Buller's  death.  It  is  an  irreparable  loss  to  me,  for  he 
was  the  single  public  man  with  whom  I  always  sym- 
pathized, and  who  seemed  to  understand  me — at 
least  as  well  as  I  did  myself."  He  also  wrote  his  noble 
Epitaph  in  which  occurs  :  "  His  character  was  dis- 
tinguished by  sincerity  and  resolution,  his  mind  by 
vivacity  and  clearness  of  comprehension  ;  while  the 
vigour  of  expression  and  the  singular  wit  that  made 
him  eminent  in  debate,  and  dehghtful  in  society  were 
tempered  by  a  most  gentle  and  generous  disposition, 
earnest  in  friendship  and  benevolent  to  all." 

Macaulay,  too,  paid  him  his  tribute.  When  he  was  re- 
elected for  Edinburgh,  he,  in  a  speech,  referred  to 


122        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

some  of  the  eminent  men  who  had  vanished  during 
his  absence  from  the  House  of  Commons.  "  In 
Parhament  I  shall  look  in  vain  for  virtues  which  I 
loved,  for  abilities  which  I  admired.  ...  I  shall 
remember  with  regret  how  much  eloquence  and  art, 
how  much  acuteness  and  knowledge,  how  many 
engaging  qualities,  how  many  fair  hopes  are  buried  in 
the  grave  of  Charles  Buller." 

Carlyle's  grief  was  touching.  Buller  had  been  part 
of  his  life  for  a  quarter  of  a  century.  He  said  of 
him  :  "  There  shone  mildly  in  his  conduct  a  beautiful 
veracity,  as  it  were  unconscious  of  itself  ;  a  perfect 
spontaneous  absence  of  all  cant,  hypocrisy,  and  hollow 
pretence.  .  .  .  Very  gentle  too,  though  full  of  fire  ; 
simple,  brave  and  graceful.  What  he  did  and  what 
he  said  came  from  him  as  light  from  a  luminous  body, 
and  had  thus  always  in  it  a  high  and  rare  merit, 
which  any  of  the  more  discerning  could  appreciate 
fully." 

It  was  not  his  early  death,  in  the  midst  of  fame  and 
power,  which  created  romantic  interest  around  this 
brilhant  man  ;  his  sterhng  worth  throughout  his  hfe 
excited  genuine  admiration ;  and  it  was  genuine 
affection  which  brought  about  that  extraordinary 
burst  of  praise  and  sorrow  at   his  demise. 

His  bust,  a  very  good  one,  is  in  the  west  aisle  of 
Westminster  Abbey ;  not  far  from  him  is  the  fine  head 
of  Connop  Thirlwall,  and  there  is  Trench  quite  close 
and  Tennyson's  body  also  near ;  and,  as  in  their  lives, 
so  in  their  deaths  are  these  "  Apostles  "  associated. 


CHAPTER  VII 

ARTHUR   H.    HALLAM 

My  Arthur  !  whom  I  shall  not  see 
Till  all  my  widow'd  race  be  run  ; 
Dear  as  the  Mother  to  the  son, 

More  than  my  brothers  are  to  me. 

I  leave  thy  praises  unexpressed 
In  verse  that  brings  myself  relief ; 
And  by  the  measure  of  my  grief 

I  leave  thy  greatness  to  be  guessed. 

(Tennyson) 

The  life  of  this  brilliant  young  genius  ^'the  life 
and  grace  of  the  set  "was  one  of  remarkable  complete- 
ness. Favoured  in  his  birth,  in  his  gifts,  in  his  death 
and  in  the  great  memorial  written'thereon — he  remains, 
and  will  ever  remain,  a  singularly  delicate  and  at- 
tractive personahty. 

His  childhood  was  not  hke  that  of  others.  The 
scope  and  capacity  of  his  mind  was  so  prodigious  and 
so  early  evident  that  his  parents — themselves  of  the 
highest  culture — were  startled  by  it  and  when  they 
reahzed  how  prodigally  he  was  endowed  became  almost 
afraid  to  contemplate  or  speak  of  his  gifts. 

At  nine  years  of  age  he  was  writing  dramatic  poetry, 


124        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

at  fourteen  translating  Dante's  Ugolino  into  Greek 
Iambics — and  such  was  the  hold  of  this  great  poet 
upon  him  that  his  latest  work  was  the  rendering  of 
his  Vita  Nuova  into  English — while  all  his  youthful 
hours  were  employed  in  learning  foreign  tongues. 
At  Eton  he  "  stood  supreme  amongst  his  fellows." 
It  is  not  surprising,  perhaps,  that  two  such  mighty 
though  widely  different  natures  as  his  and  Gladstone's 
should  there  have  made  a  deep  mutual  impression. 
Hallam  took  this  schoolmate  to  his  heart  and  under 
his  protection  ;  and  the  strong  personality  of  the 
future  statesman  submitted  meekly  to^the  domination 
of  his  friend's  overpowering  charm. 

It  is  curious,  after  all  that  has  passed,  to  picture 
these  young  giants  on  an  occasion  when  the  youthful 
Gladstone  was  engaged  at  the  study  fire  preparing  a 
savoury  meal  for  their  common  delectation,  and  Hallam 
was  engaged  in  composing  a  sonnet  to  the  school- 
boy cook,  addressed  to  "  My  Bosom  Friend."  (These 
lines  he  subsequently  pohshed  and  published). 

When  he  joined  the  Eton  Debating  Society  he 
for  once  and  for  ever  asserted  his  strength.  The 
youth  [of  his  day  approved  of  Cathohc  Emancipation, 
and  most  Etonians  spoke  well  upon  that  subject;  but 
Hallam  dehvered  his  convictions  in  favour  of  the  Bill 
with  logical  reason  as  well  as  with  poetic  fervour. 
His  companions  perceived  his  abihty  and  rejoiced  in 
it  and — unhke  schoolboys  as  a  rule — recognized  they 
had  a  genius  in  their  midst  ;  while  he  himself  "  had 
no   high,   ungenial  or   exclusive    ways,  but    heartily 


Arthur  H.  Hallam 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  125 

acknowledged  and  habitually  conformed  to  the  repub- 
lican equahty  long  and  happily  estabhshed  in  the  life 
of  our  English  public  schools." 

When  at  the  age  of  sixteen  he  left  Eton,  he,  for 
the  months  that  had  to  elapse  between  school  and 
Cambridge,  travelled  in  Italy  with  his  parents.  Of 
this  step  Gladstone  was  of  opinion  that,  while  doubt- 
less good  for  the  youth,  it  was  undoubtedly  bad  for 
the  student.  During  his  eight  months  residence  in 
that  country,  however,  Hallam  returned  to  his  alle- 
giance to  Dante — whose  place  in  his  fancy  Byron  had 
f  or-a  month  or  two  usurped — and  entranced  by  the  scho- 
lastic theology  and  mystic  visions  of  the  Paradiso,  he, 
through  loving  study  of  that  great  epic,  gained  such  an 
intimate  knowledge  of  the  Itahan  language  that  he  was 
able  to  write  sonnets  in  it ;  which  sonnets  were  after- 
wards pronounced  by  Italian  scholars  to  be  perfect 
both  in  form  and  expression.  Having  an  ''ardent  and 
adventurous  mind  "  he  was  not  entirely  absorbed  by 
poetry  during  this  period  ;  painting  and  sculpture  as 
well  took  strong  hold  of  him,  while  "  his  progress  in 
all  he  undertook,  as  well  as  in  his  nature,  was  then,  as 
always,  great  and  rapid." 

Afterwards,  he  came  round  himself  to  the  Gladstonian 
opinion — ^for  he  wrote  :  "  These  travels  and  new 
experiences  should  rather  have  come  after  my  three 
years  of  College  than  before,  but  nothing  can  cancel  it 
now,  and  I  must  go  on  in  the  path  that  has  been 
chalked  out  for  me." 

He  was  seventeen  when  he  went  to  Trinity  College, 


126        THE    CAMBRIDGE    ''APOSTLES" 

Cambridge.  There  Blakesley,  Thompson,  Thirlwall, 
Tennyson  and  Spedding  were  all  at  once  captivated 
by  him.  They  saw  his  charm  and  felt  his  strength, 
and  "  bowed  before  him  in  conscious  inferiority  in 
everything."  There  was  a  personal  as  well  as  a 
mental  attraction  about  this  extraordinary  youth 
which  contributed  to  his  singular  power  of  fascination 
Going  "  up  "  as  he  did,  with  a  reputation  such  as  that 
already  attained,  much  was  expected  of  him,  but 
he  seems  to  have  had  no  decided  ambitions  and,  his  in- 
terests being  somewhat  widely  spread,  he  could  not 
give  himself  calmly  to  classics  and  by-and-by  re- 
solved to  abstain  from  all  competition. 

But  the  renunciation  of  an  academical  career  caused 
him  some  depression,  and  for  a  time  "  hipped  "  him 
somewhat  against  Cambridge.  When  this  fit  was  upon 
him  he  wrote  to  Gladstone  :  "  Academical  honours 
would  be  less  than  nothing  to  me  were  it  not  for  my 
father's  wishes,  and  even  these  are  moderate  on  the 
subject.  If  it  please  God  that  I  make  the  name  I  bear 
honoured  in  a  second  generation,  it  will  be  by  inward 
power  which  is  its  own  reward." 

Gladstone  imphes  that  Henry  Hallam  ought  by  right 
to  have  sent  his  son  to  Oxford — he  says  such  a  deter- 
mination on  the  father's  part  would  have  been  "  pro- 
pitious to  the  mind  of  Arthur  Hallam,"  and  he  regards 
it  as  certain  that  if  he  had  been  at  Oxford  he  would 
"  by  taking  the  highest  classical  honours,  and  by  a 
thoroughly  congenial  development  of  philosophical 
power,  have  illustrated  the  annals  of  the  Universit}^" 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  127 

There  is  no  doubt  that  Hallam's  wonderful  faculties 
did  not  find  their  proper  scope  at  Cambridge.  Though 
there  was  no  intellectual  work  of  which  he  was  not 
capable,  he  devoted  most  of  his  time  to  the  culture  of 
poetry  and  to  the  study  of  metaphysics.  He  never,  it 
seems,  avoided  a  metaphysical  discussion,  his  subtlety 
in  this  branch  of  philosophy  being  considered  greater 
than  that  of  any  of  his  contemporaries.  Cousin,  who 
knew  him,  said  of  him :  "  It  is  a  fit  thing  that  the  son  of 
a  great  historian  should  be  a  great  metaphysician." 
That  his  knowledge  had  wide  scope  is  shown  by  Milnes, 
who  said  :  "I  have  a  very  deep  respect  for  Hallam. 
He  really  seems  to  know  everything  from  meta- 
physics to  cookery.  I  dine  with  him,  Thirlwall  and 
Hare  (think  what  a  parti  carre  we  shall  be)  on 
Wednesday." 

Hallam  was  in  nature  gay  and  sociable,  and  he  was 
generally  to  be  found  in  a  friend's  room,  reading 
or  conversing.  When  the  mood  was  on  him  he 
would  go  from  one  to  the  other  of  them,  and  for 
choice  to  where  he  was  most  likely  to  find  those 
with  comprehensions  as  quick  as  his  own.  He  was 
helpful  and  tactful  in  conversation,  and  invariably 
assumed  that  his  hearers  were  as  intelhgent  and  as 
brilliant  as  himself.  Occasionally  he  would  get 
fits  of  dissatisfaction  ^vith  these  irregulated  meander- 
ings,  and  in  such  frames  of  mind  he  would  make  new 
plans  for  the  better  management  of  his  day  and  fresh 
schemes  for  his  work.  But  even  in  his  most  desultory 
moods  he  worked  at  something,  every  moment  being 


128        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

given  to  the  absorption  or  to  the  giving  forth  of  know- 
ledge. 

His  taste  lay  principally  in  philosophic  poetry ;  he 
showed  early  that  this  for  him  was  the  "  natural  and 
necessary  language  of  general  emotion."  Fletcher 
and  Shakespeare  he  knew  almost  by  heart,  Wordsworth 
and  Shelley  became  his  passion,  while  he  had  the 
highest  opinion  of  Coleridge.  During  one  vacation  he 
and  Merivale  went  together  to  call  upon  that  poet  at 
his  house  at  Hampstead.  When  they  got  there  they 
"  found  him  deep  in  metaphysics,  but  on  Hallam 
pressing  him  very  hard  he  shut  up  and  said,  '  You  will 
find  it  all  there  in  my  work  on  logic,'  pointing  to  a  big 
folio  in  vellum  which  occupied  a  conspicuous  place  on 
his  shelves.  *  When  Coleridge  died,'  adds  Merivale 
(who  tells  the  tale),  '  this  book  w^as  opened  and  its 
interior  found  to  be  blank.'  "  Hallam,  in  his  Tim- 
budoo,  said  of  the  impressions  Coleridge  left  on  him 
by  the  few  conversations  "  which  it  was  his  delight  " 
to  have  had  with  him — 

Methought  I  saw  a  face  whose  every  line 

Wore  the  pale  cast  of  thought  :  a  good  old  man, 

Most  eloquent,  who  spake  of  things  divine. 

Hallam  was  prime  mover  of  the  Embassy  which  the 
Cambridge  Union  sent  to  its  Oxford  sister  club  in  the 
year  1829  ;  when  he,  Sunderland  and  Milnes  went 
forth  to  discuss  with  Oxford  the  relative  merits  of 
Shelley  and  Byron.  Milnes'  account  of  this  historic 
event  at  the  time,  is  graphic — 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  129 

"  Sunderland  spoke  for  it,  then  Hallam,  then  some 
Oxonians — and  I  succeeded.  The  contrast  from  our 
long,  noisy,  shuffling,  scraping,  talking,  vulgar,  ridicu- 
lous-looking kind  of  assembly,  to  a  neat  little  square 
room  with  eighty  or  ninety  young  gentlemen  sprucely 
dressed,  was  enough  to  unnerve  a  more  confident  per- 
son than  myself.  Sunderland  was  somewhat  awed, 
and  became  tautological,  and  spoke  what  we  should 
call  an  inferior  speech,  but  which  dazzled  his  hearers. 
Hallam,  as  being  among  old  friends,  was  bold  and 
spoke  well.  I  was  certainly  nervous,  but,  I  think, 
pleased  my  audience  better  than  I  pleased  myself. 
The  Oxonian  speaking  is  wretched." 

And  his  remembrance  of  it  in  1866  is  still  more  in- 
teresting— 

"  It  was  in  company  with  Mr.  Sunderland  and 
Arthur  Hallam  that  I  formed  part  of  a  deputation  sent 
from  the  Union  of  Cambridge  to  the  Union  of  Oxford  ; 
and  what  do  you  think  we  went  about  ?  Why,  we 
went  to  assert  the  right  of  Mr.  Shelley  to  be  considered 
a  greater  poet  than  Lord  Byron.  At  that  time  we  at 
Cambridge  were  all  very  full  of  Mr.  Shelley,  and  a 
friend  of  ours  suggested  that  as  Shelley  had  been  ex- 
pelled from  Oxford,  and  greatly  ill-treated,  it  would  be 
a  very  grand  thing  for  us  to  go  to  Oxford  and  raise  a 
debate  upon  his  character  and  powders.  So,  with  full 
permission  of  the  authorities,  we  went  to  Oxford — in 
those  days  a  long  chaise  journey  of  ten  hours — and  we 
were  hospitably  entertained  by  a  young  student  by 
the  name  of  Gladstone — who,  by  the  way,  has  himself 
since  been  expelled.  We  had  an  interesting  debate, 
one  of  the  principal  speakers  in  which,  who  reminded 
me  of  the  circumstance,  is  now  an  Archbishop  of  the 
Roman  Cathohc   Church  ;    but  we  were  very  much 

9— (2318) 


130        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

shocked,  and  our  vanity  was  not  a  little  wounded,  to 
find  that  nobody  at  Oxford  knew  anything  about  Mr. 
Shelley." 

Blakesley  also  said  of  this  event — 

"  There  was  proposed  at  their  Union  the  question  as 
to  the  respective  moral  tendency  of  the  writings  ol 
Shelley  and  Byron.  Sunderland,  Milnes  and  Hallam 
made  an  expedition  to  Oxford  and  spoke  there  in 
favour  of  the  former,  thereby  o,f  course  procuring  to 
themselves  the  reputation  of  atheists.  Howbeit,  they 
gained  some  converts  and  spread  the  knowledge  of  the 
poet." 

The  result  of  this  great  meeting  was  noted  and 
placed  in  the  records  of  the  Cambridge  Union 
Society  as  follows — 

"  Mr.  Wilberforce  (Oriel),  President  of  the  Oxford 
Union,  and  Mr.  Doyle  (Christ  Church)  moved  that 
'  Shelley  was  a  greater  poet  than  Lord  Byron.'  He  was 
supported  by  Mr.  T.  Sunderland,  Mr.  Arthur  Hallam 
and  Mr.  Monckton  Milnes,  of  Trinity  College,  Cam- 
bridge, and  Mr.  Oldham  (Oriel)  ;  and  opposed  by  Mr. 
Manning,  of  BalHol.  The  Division  was — Ayes,  33  ; 
Noes,  90  ;    Majority  in  favour  of  Lord  Byron,  57." 

Cambridge  men  ever  afterwards  maintained  that  it 
was  not  until  this  episode  that  Oxford  men  had  even 
heard  the  name  of  Shelley. 

In  the  year  1830  Hallam,  together  with  Tennyson 
and  Milnes,  were  all  made  "  Apostles,"  when  these 
three  bright  spirits  together  began  to  use,  at  the  meet- 
ings of  the  Society,  "  all  hcence  of  raillery  and  criti- 
cism."    Hallam' s  Eton  debates  and  his  "  Union  "  ex- 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  131 

periences  stood  him  in  good  stead.  "  Hallam  spoke 
very  well."  *'  Hallam  has  been  enlightening  the  '  wise 
and  few'."  *'  Hallam's  marvellous  mind  has  been 
gleaning  in  wisdom  from  every  tract  of  knowledge." 

He  read  his  Theodiccea  Novissima  before  the  "  Wise 
Society,"  and  "  would  read  or  discuss  metaphysics  as 
he  lay  on  a  sofa,  surrounded  by  a  noisy  party,  with  as 
much  care  and  acuteness  as  if  he  had  been  alone. 
He  was  fond  of  society ;  that  is  to  say,  the  society  he 
was  in.  "  A  set  of  literary  men,  remarkable  for  free 
and  friendly  intercourse,  whose  characters,  talents  and 
opinions  of  every  complexion  were  brought  into  con- 
tinual collision,  all  hcence  of  discussion  permitted  and 
no  offence  taken,"  said  Spedding,  this  set  being,  of 
course,  the  "  Apostles." 

It  was  considered  that  whatever  the  "  Apostohc  " 
topic  might  be,  Hallam  was  the  one  who  could  throw 
the  newest  light  upon  it  and  even  show  to  its  closest 
student  points  he  had  never  yet  suspected. 

And  last,  the  master-bowman,  he 
Would  cleave  the  mark.    A  willing  ear 
We  lent  him.    Who,  but  himg  to  hear 
The  rapt  oration  flowing  free. 

From  point  to  point,  with  power  and  grace 
And  music  in  the  bounds  of  law. 
To  these  conclusions  which  we  saw 
The  God  within  him  light  his  face. 

And  seem  to  lift  the  form,  and  glow 
In  azure  orbits  heavenly-wise  ; 
And  over  those  ethereal  eyes 
The  bar  of  Michael  Angelo. 

The  year  which  saw  these  illustrious  additions  to  the 


132        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

band  of  the  "  Apostles  "  was  the  year  after  Timbuctoo, 
and  the  year  of  the  expedition  to  Spain.  In  this  latter 
business,  in  which  Hallam,  as  well  as  many  of  the 
"  brethren,"  was  interested,  he,  "  ardent  in  the  cause 
of  those  he  deemed  to  be  oppressed,"  according  to  his 
father,  "  was  led  to  give  a  proof  of  his  generosity  with 
more  of  energy  and  enthusiasm  than  discretion." 

When  he  set  out  to  take  assistance  to  the  Spaniards, 
he  went  as  all  these  young  conspirators  did,  secretly.  He 
met  Tennyson  by  appointment,  and  with  him  got  as  far 
as  the  Pyrenees.  Theyjhad  a  meeting  wdth  some  of  the 
heads  of  the  conspiracy,  and  gave  over  the  money  and 
messages  they  had  brought  for  Torrijos'  aUies,  and  to 
the  alarm  of  their  people,  were  not  heard  of  for  several 
weeks.  Hallam  himself,  far  from  sanguine  at  this 
time,  was  apprehensive  as  to  the  result  ;  but  he  says 
in  a  letter,  "Alfred  was  only  troubled  to  think  he 
could  not  keep  in  his  mind  the  \dvid  impressions 
he  got  of  people,  scenery  and  atmosphere . ' '  All  at  home 
being  anxious  about  them,  the  affair  in  which  they 
were  involved  hanging  fire,  and  every  circumstance 
connected  with  it  opposed  to  a  satisfactory  issue,  they 
rather  ruefully  came  back.  But  they  took  Cauteretz 
on  their  homeward  way,  concerning  which  journey 
Tennyson  wrote  so  feelingly  so  many  years  afterwards. 

In  writing  a  comforting  letter  to  Trench  at  Gib- 
raltar, about  the  failure  of  the  conspirators'  greatest 
coup,  Hallam  said  :  "I  had  hoped  and  beheved  till 
the  very  last  for  the  success  of  the  noble  cause  for 
which  you  are  strugghng,  but  in  spite  of  Kemble's 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  133 

sanguine  letters,  I  can  hope  and  believe  no  longer. 
The  game  is  lost  in  Spain."  He,  however,  did  not 
find  his  romantic  adventure  favourably  regarded  by 
his  father.  The  young  man  complained,  "  he  does 
not  understand,  that  after  helping  to  revolutionize 
a  kingdom,  one  is  httle  inchned  to  trouble  about 
scholarships  or  '  such  gear.'  " 

He  had  competed  for  the  prize  poem  which  Tennyson 
carried  off  with  his  "  Timbuctoo."  It  would  be 
interesting  to  know  if  the  Examiners  had  the 
remotest  idea  of  the  responsibility  imposed  upon 
them  as  they  compared  the  work  of  such  poets  as 
Hallam,  Milnes  and  Tennyson.  Nothing,  however, 
exceeded  the  joy  of  his  companions  over  Tenny- 
son's success.  They  accepted  it  as  right  and  just, 
and  all  rejoiced  as  though  they  themselves  had  won. 
One  of  the  most  charming  traits  of  the  ''  Apostles  " 
of  those  days  was  the  hearty  enthusiasm — entirely  free 
from  envy — which  the  success  achieved  in  any  direc- 
tion by  any  one  of  them  invariably  aroused  in  the 
breasts  of  all  his  fellows.  And  this  generous  impulse 
appears  to  have  been  indigenous — an  essential  part  of 
the  nature  and  spirit  of  the  "  Society  " — a  character- 
istic mark,  notable  from  its  inception  and  all  through 
this  period  of  its  life. 

The  next  year  Hallam  tried  again  for  the  prize,  but 
Kinglake's  ''  Byzantium  "  took  it.  The  year  after,  no- 
thing daunted,  he  tried,  in  terza  rima  this  time,  but 
Venables  carried  it  off  by  a  poem  in  blank  verse,  the 
subject  being  ''  The  North-west  Passage." 


134        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

He,  however,  in  1830,  gained  the  College  prize  for 
declamation,  the  subject  being  "  The  Conduct  of 
the  Independent  Party  during  the  Civil  War,"  an 
oration  which  excited  general  enthusiasm  ;  he  de- 
livered it,  it  seems,  with  tremendous  effect,  and  Milnes, 
after  hearing  it,  said,  "  Hallam  in  all  Hkehhood  is  to 
have  the  declamation  prize.  It  was  really  splendid 
to  see  the  poet  Wordsworth's  face — for  he  was  there 
— kindle  as  Hallam  proceeded  with  it." 

This  visit  of  Wordsworth  to  the  University  was  a 
joy  to  all  the  "  Apostles."  Hallam,  who  had  loved 
him  before,  was  inspired  by  being  brought  face  to  face 
with  the  old  poet,  who  showed  in  a  marked  way  his 
appreciation  of  the  young  one.  Wordsworth  stayed 
in  Spedding's  rooms  and  allowed  himself  to  be  wor- 
shipped by  the'*  Society."  On  this  memorable  evening, 
they  all  assembled,  we  are  told,  and  sat  at  the  poet's  feet 
— many  of  them  in  a  literal  sense,  for  the  little  sitting- 
room  was  crowded.  They  paid  him  the  reverence  due, 
not  only  to  one  who  was  already  their  laureate,  but  to 
one  who  appeared  to  their  young  eyes  over-laden  with 
years  (though  he  was  barely  sixty).  Some  of  the 
more  earnest  endeavoured  to  lure  him  into  the 
arena  of  philosophical  discussion,  but  Wordsworth 
wisely  evaded  their  challenge  and  confined  himself 
to  a  fervid  oration  on  the  picturesque  subject  of 
Revolutions. 

Hallam  had  by  this  time  got  his  book  of  poems 
together,  ready  for  printing.  He  was  never  happy 
unless  he  had  poetic  and  literary  interest  to  occupy  him; 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  I35 

he  worked  hard  for  the  Athenaeum  all  the  while  Maurice 
had  it,  and  also  for  the  Metropolitan  Quarterly,  dunng 
part  of  its  career.  He  had  Shelley's"  Adonais"  printed 
for  the  first  time  in  England,  and  was  by  many  of 
them  always  afterwards  called  by  that  name;  he 
made  Keats  known  to  the  Enghsh  public  ;  he  found  a 
pubhsher  for  "  Alfred's "  poems,  and  accomphshed 
the  whole  of  the  business  part  of  the  producmg  of 
that  work  for  his  friend. 

Kemble  about  this  time  said  to  Donne  : 

"  Hallam  you  know,  and  I  hope  like.  He  is  an 
excellent  man,  full  of  high  and  noble  qualities,  and  is 
young  enough  to  become  a  greater  and  a  better  man 
than  he  is.  You  do  not  know  Charles  or  Alfred 
Tennyson,  both  of  whom  are  dying  to  know  you  ;  tne 
first  opportunity  you  have  of  making  their  acquaint- 
ance, neglect  it  not.  They  are  poets  of  the  highest 
class.  Charles  has  just  published  a  small  volume  ot 
sonnets,  and  his  brother  and  Hallam  are  about  to  edit 
their  poems  conjointly.  One  day  these  men  will  be 
great  indeed.'' 

Hallam,  in  sending  Tennyson's  mother  her  son's 
''  Poems,  chiefly  Lyrical,"  sent  also  by  the  same  earner 
a  volume  of  his  own  which  he  had  just  printed,  ex- 
plaining that  these  were  formerly  intended  to  be 
printed  with  Alfred's,  an  end  he  had  looked  forward  to 
with  dehght,  but  reasons  had  obHged  him  to  change  his 
intention,  and  he  adds  : 

"  I  have  Httle  reason  to  apprehend  your  wasting 
much  time  over  that  book,  when  I  send  you  along  with 


136        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

it  such  a  treasure  in  your  son's  poetry.  He  is  a  true 
and  thorough  poet,  if  ever  there  was  one  ;  and  though 
I  fear  his  book  is  far  too  good  to  be  popular,  yet  I  have 
full  faith  that  he  has  thrown  out  sparks  that  will  kindle 
somewhere  and  will  vivify  young  generous  hearts  in 
the  days  that  are  coming,  to  a  clearer  perception  of 
what  is  beautiful  and  good." 

Hallam's  friends  and  companions  thought  his  own 
compositions  somewhat  too  stately  and  severe  for  one 
so  young,  but  they  all  acknowledged  their  loftiness  and 
beauty ;  and  concerning  his  volume  of  poems  he  wrote, 
while  sending  a  copy  of  it  to  Donne  : 

''  I  incline  to  hope  that  in  respect  of  my  being  an 
*  Apostle  '  and  a  friend  of  some  of  your  best  friends, 
you  will  pardon  the  liberty  I  take  in  sending  you  a 
little  book,  which  I  have  just  committed  the  sin  of 
printing,  and  was  on  the  verge  of  committing  the 
greater  sin  of  publishing.  You  will  find  in  it,  I  be- 
lieve, little  or  no  poetry,  but  here  and  there  perhaps 
some  half  developed  elements  of  poetic  thought, 
which,  if  the  sun  shine  and  the  dews  fall,  may  come 
hereafter  to  maturity.  I  hope  in  a  short  time  to  have 
the  much  greater  pleasure  of  sending  you  a  volume  of 
Lyrical  poems  by  Alfred  Tennyson,  of  whom  you  cannot 
but  have  heard  from  Blakesley  and  others,  and  whose 
genius,  I  do  not  doubt,  you  will  admire  as  much  as  we 
do.  Friendship  certainly  plays  sad  pranks  with  one's 
judgment  in  these  matters  ;  yet  I  think  if  I  hated 
Alfred  Tennyson  as  much  as  I  love  him,  I  could  hardly 
help  revering  his  imagination  with  much  the  same  re- 
verence. The  book  will  be  small,  but  did  not  Samson 
slay  some  thousand  Philistines  with  a  jawbone  ?  and 
what  hinders  but  a  httle  12  mo.  of  a  hundred  and  fifty 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  137 

pages  may  in  the  land  of  a  right  and  true  spirit  do  the 
Lord's  work  against  the  Phihstines  of  this  viperous 
generation  ?  His  brother's  sonnets  you  have  seen,  I 
am  told,  and  I  rejoice  much  that  you  like  them  ;  but 
Charles,  though  he  burns  and  shines,  is  a  lesser  light 
than  Alfred.  I  do  not  understand  from  Spedding  that 
you  are  likely  to  be  in  town  any  part  of  next  month  ; 
if  you  were,  I  know  few  things  that  would  give  me  more 
pleasure  than  the  opportunity  which  would  thereby  be 
afforded  me  of  improving  my  acquaintance  with  you. 
I  trust  you  will  excuse  my  plaguing  you  with  this  note, 
and  will  believe  me, 

''  Yours  very  sincerely, 

A.  H.  HallaMw 
''Trinity  College, 
''  Monday." 

In   this  tiny  book  there  are   two  or  three   poems 
dedicated  to  Tennyson,  one  of  which  runs— 

To  A.  T. 

Oh  last  in  time,  but  worthy  to  be  first, 

Of  friends  in  rank,  had  not  the  father  of  good 

On  my  early  spring  one  perfect  gem  bestowed, 

A  friend,  with  whom  to  share  the  best,  and  worst, 

Him  will  I  shut  close  to  my  heart  for  aye. 

There's  not  a  fibre  quivers  there,  but  is 

His  own,  his  heritage  for  woe  or  bliss, 

Thou  would'st  not  have  me  such  a  charge  betray. 

Surely,  if  I  be  knit  in  brotherhood 

So  tender  to  that  chief  of  all  my  love, 

With  thee  I  shall  not  loyalty  eschew. 

And  well  I  ween  not  time,  with  ill  or  good. 

Shall  thine  affections  e'er  from  mine  remove. 

Thou  yearner  for  all  fair  things  and  true. 

The  earher  friend  to  whom  he  here  alludes  was  young 
Gladstone.     The  poems — the  earhest  written  almost 


138        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

in  childhood — are  naturally  of  unequal  merit,  but  all 
show  brilliant  promise  and  extraordinary  beauty  of 
thought.  However  Hallam  might  have  developed 
as  a  poet,  had  he  lived,  his  youthful  efforts  certainly 
do  not  lose  by  comparison  with  Tennyson's  first 
published  work. 

One  little  cry  of  his  runs  almost  prophetically — 


I  have  lived  little  on  this  earth  of  sorrow, 
Few  are  the  roses  I  have  watched  in  blooming, 
Yet  I  would  die. 

Intimate  feelings,  presences  of  grandeur, 
Thrills  of  sweet  love  for  God  and  man  await  me. 
Yet  I  would  die. 


Tennyson's  volume  was  given  of  course  to  Brook- 
field,  who  wrote  soon  after  receiving  it  : 

"  My  dear  Hallam, — 

"  That  I  have  had  great  inclination  to  write  to  you 
sooner,  I  profess,  that  I  have  not  been  without  suffi- 
cient leisure,  I  am  free  to  acknowledge,  but  that  my 
brain  has  been  '  dry  as  the  remainder  biscuit '  I  am  not 
at  liberty  to  deny.  At  length,  however,  I  tax  my 
energies  for  three  sides  entirely  in  the  hope  of  provok- 
ing, rather  than  deserving  to  myself,  the  pleasure  of  a 
reply.  You  have  long  ago  discovered  that  (to  convert 
Addison's  bumptious  metaphor)  I  carry  most  of  my 
money  loose  in  my  pocket,  and  that  my  draughts  upon 
my  bank  stand  a  marvellous  chance  of  being  dis- 
honoured. I  premise  this  in  order  to  disarm  you  if  I 
be  dull.  You  must  not,  in  cataloguing  me  as  a 
correspondent,  look  for  many  Birdisms  ;  my  feathers,  if 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  139 

I  have  any,  moult  when  I  would  pluck  them  for  quills  ; 
and  when  seated  in  the  deliberate  solemnity  of  a  letter, 
your  paraquito  droops  into  a  penguin.  Our  house, 
too,  is  no  aviary,  and  in  the  stupid  fog  of  a  '  serious  and 
well-regulated  family,'  the  hnt-white  and  the  throstle- 
cock  get  as  hoarse  as  ravens.  This  mewing,  however, 
will  soon  have  an  end  in  a  fresh  plumage,  and  in  a 
fortnight  we  will  all  up  and  crow  once  more  in  Trinity  : 

Blow  up  the  fire  Gyp  Haggis, 

Bring  brandywine  for  three  ; 
Bard  Alfred,  Bird  William,  and  Clerk  Arthur 

This  night  shall  merry  be. 

"  I  just  discover  that  I  might  have  saved  you  and 
myself  much  trouble  by  inscribing  on  the  last  side 
nothing  more  than  a  very  large  I.  I  will  now,  how- 
ever, try  a  few  variations  on  U.  I  and  U  parted  last 
at  the  Ball.  I  am  particularly  anxious  to  learn  how 
many  things  you  fancied  yourself  besides  a  Swan,  a 
shower  of  gold,  a  Dragon,  a  Bull,  and  a  flash  of  light- 
ning, according  to  Jupiter  ;  a  finger  and  thumb  going 
to  crush  a  rose  leaf,  according  to  Alfred  ;  a  shepherd 
seeking  a  pet  lamb,  according  to  Shenstone  ;  a  quart 
or  so  of  dew  dropping  upon  a  Violet,  according  to 
Waller  ;  a  melody  falling  upon  an  ear  that  loves  to 
hear  it,  according  to  (very  probably)  Mrs.  Hemans  ;  a 
mountaineer  chasing  a  Gazelle,  according  to  Mirza 
Djami  ;  and  a  dove  hastening  home,  according  to  all  the 
world.  I  am  aware  that  you  would, hke  Grumio,  '  knock 
me  here  soundty  '  if  you  were  here  ;  but  a  tender-boned 
thing  hke  myself  feels  that  face  to  face  and  sheet  to 
sheet  are  very  different  modes  of  intercourse.  Stand- 
ing, therefore,  hke  iEsop's  goat  on  the  house  top,  I 
beseech  you,  most  valorous  lion,  to  make  a  merit  of 


140        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

necessity  and  tell  me  all  that  I  know.  Indite  a  few 
sighs  ;  the}^  will  reach  me  in  very  good  appetite,  as  I 
am  myself  once  more  sobbing  and  floundering  in  that 
Fount  of  Love  I  told  you  of,  having  again  encountered 
the  bright,  romantic,  harp-pla^dng  Sonnettee  of  last 
summer.  By  the  way,  it  just  occurs  to  me  that  a  mind 
more  apt  than  your  own  at  malconstruction  might 
think  the  allusions  I  have  made  to  Jove  more  jovial 
than  delicate,  but  I  am  sure  you  will  credit  me  when 
I  say  that  I  meant  the  nonsense  to  be  quite  free  from 
sense,  i.e.  to  be  altogether  spiritual.  I  do  not  make 
this  apology  for  the  sake  of  the  pun. 

"  I  Constitutional  Historo  for  the  last  few  days,  and 
find  it  would  have  been  advisable  to  have  Moddle  Ogen 
first.  I  began  the  former  by  reason  that  I  heard  you 
pronounce  it  the  moister  book.  I  enjoy  it  very  much, 
but  will  not  commit  myself  by  vague  criticism. 

"  I  was  delighted  to  find  that  Tennyson  had  been 
reviewed  in  the  Westminster.  I  was  about  preparing 
a  sort  of  Newspaper  notice  of  the  poems,  with  ex- 
tracts, for  the  Sheffield  Courant ;  but  in  the  meantime 
the  Editor  had  extracted,  rather  injudiciously,  a  part 
from  the  Westminster,  so  that  I  cannot  now  well  do 
what  I  purposed. 

''  I  don't  know  whether  this  will  find  you  in  London 
or  at  Trinity  ;  if  the  latter  remember  me  to  them  all. 
I  think  of  leaving  this  place  on  Monday  week,  and 
going  by  Town,  where  I  shall  be  on  Tuesday.  You 
may,  perhaps,  know  that  a  requisition  was  getting  up 
for  me  to  stand  for  the  Presidency  of  the  Union  next 
term.  But  if  chance  will  have  me  King,  chance  may 
crown  me,  for  I  will  not  move  in  the  matter.  I  shall 
hope  to  hear  from  you  in  a  day  or  two.  Direct  W.H.B., 
Sheffield. 

"  Lest  you  should  think  from  the  subhmities  about 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  141 

moulting  feathers,  in  the  first  side,  that  you  are  cor- 
responding with  Warburton,  I  beg  to  add  myself, 


My  dear 


(hearts  being  trumps), 
''  Yours  very  affectionately, 
"  Wm.  Henry  Brookfield. 


The  books  here  mentioned  were  of  course  Hallam's 
Constitutional  History  and  his  Middle  Ages. 

Brookfield,  in  due  course,  was  elected  President  of 
the  Cambridge  Union,  having  previously  held  the 
offices  of  Treasurer  and  Secretary  in  that  Society,  and 
it  is  possible  that  it  was  Hallam  himself  who  wrote  the 
review  alluded  to  above,  at  all  events  he  supplied  the 
Englishman  article — a  part  of  which  enthusiastic  ap- 
preciation runs — 

"  Mr.  Tennyson  belongs  decidedly  to  the  class  we 
have  already  described  as  Poets  of  sensation.  He 
sees  all  the  forms  of  nature  with  the  '  eruditus  oculus,' 
and  his  ear  has  a  fairy  fineness.  There  is  a  strange 
earnestness  in  his  worship  of  beauty  which  throws  a 
charm  over  his  impassioned  song,  more  easily  felt  than 
described,  and  not  to  be  escaped  by  those  who  have 
once  felt  it.  We  think  he  has  more  definiteness,  and 
roundness  of  general  conception,  than  the  late  Mr. 
Keats,  and  is  much  more  free  from  blemishes  of  diction 
and  hasty  capriccios  of  fancy.  .  .  .  We  have  remarked 
five  distinctive  excellencies  of  his  manner.  First  his 
luxuriance  of  imagination,  and  at  the  same  time  his 
control  over  it.  Secondly,  his  power  of  embodying 
himself  in  ideal  characters,  or  rather  moods  of  char- 
acter, with  such  extreme  accuracy  of  adjustment  that 


142        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

the  circumstances  of  the  narration  seem  to  have  a 
natural  correspondence  with  the  predominant  feehng, 
and,  as  it  were,  to  be  evolved  from  it  by  assimilative 
force.  Thirdly,  his  vivid,  picturesque  delineation  of 
objects,  and  the  pecuKar  skill  with  which  he  holds  them 
all  fused,  to  borrow  a  metaphor  from  science,  in  a 
medium  of  strong  emotion.  Fourthly,  the  variety  ol 
his  lyrical  measures,  and  exquisite  modulations  of  har- 
monious words  and  cadences  to  the  swell  and  fall  of 
the  feelings  expressed.  Fifthly,  the  elevated  habits  of 
thought,  implied  in  these  compositions,  and  imparting 
a  mellow  soberness  of  tone,  more  impressive  to  our 
minds,  than  if  the  author  had  drawn  up  a  set  of  opin- 
ions in  verse,  and  sought  to  instruct  the  understanding 
rather  than  to  communicate  the  love  of  beauty  to  the 
heart." 

Merivale,  the  "  mildest  of  scoffers,"  says  of  this 
review  in  writing  to  W.  H.  Thompson  : 

"  I  think  the  only  scene  of  general  dissipation  and 
prostration  was  at  the  Apostolic  dinner,  to  which  you 
were  specially  invited,  and  to  which  invitation  you  did 
not  especially  respond.  It  was  said  by  the  experienced 
to  have  succeeded  particularly  well.  For  myself,  who 
had  never  seen  such  before,  between  admiration  and 
wine,  I  felt  hke  the  traveller  who  says,  '  I  have  found 
a  new  land,  but  I  die,'  the  best  part  of  it  was  the  mutual 
recriminations  of  Spedding  and  Hallam  for  kilHng  the 
Englishman,  and  their  joint  indignation  at  Blackwood 
for  cutting  him  up  after. 

"  We  had  only  three  essays.  Heath's  on  Niebiihr,  for 
which  I  finished  the  debate  by  dropping  something 
entirely  foreign  to  the  question  ;  Alford's  (out  of  turn) 
on    Christianity,   in    which   Monteith,   Tennant   and 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  143 

Martin  avowed  themselves  Idolaters  (I  believe) ;  and 
mine  on  Mrs.  Trollope's  America,  which  I  undertook 
after  attempting  through  the  term  to  set  the  Latin 
particles  to  rights,  and  finding  at  last  that  I  knew 
nothing  about  them." 

In  seeking  to  stir  and  encourage  Tennyson,  who 
after  the  publication  of  his  book  went  through  a  time 
of  depression,  Hallam  would  write  :  "I  have  had  an- 
other letter  from  Spedding,  full  of  pleasant  scoffs  ;  and 
another,  two  months  old,  extolling  your  book  over 
sun,  moon  and  stars,"  or  he  would  say,  "  The  lines  to 
*  J.  S.'  are  perfect." 

Then  he  would  assure  the  poet,  and  Brookfield  too, 
that  copies  of  the  book  had  been  sent  round  to  all  the 
"Apostles,"  and  received  by  them  with  as  flattering  a 
freshness  as  if  every  word  and  every  line  in  it  had  just 
come  straight  from  the  poet.  Then,  the  black  mood 
lasting,  he  and  Tennyson  went  a  tour  together  into  the 
North,  where  they  called  on  Brookfield  and  talked  over 
future  literary  schemes,  and  "  particularly  discussed 
the  older  dramatists  !  " 

An  example  of  the  spirit  in  which  he  worked  for 
"  Alfred  "  is  shown  in  a  letter  to  Merivale,  whom  he 
(mth  others)  pressed  into  the  same  service — 

"  The  matter  I  entrust  to  you  is  to  call  upon  Mr. 
Moxon,  64,  New  Bond  Street,  introducing  yourself 
under  shelter  of  my  name  and  Alfred's,  and  to  pop 
the  question  to  him,  '  What  do  you  pay  your  regular 
contributors  ?  What  will  you  pay  Alfred  Tennyson 
for  monthly  contributions  ? '     Also,  while  your  hand 


144        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

is  in,  to  ask  whether,  if  Alfred  was  to  get  a  new  volume 
ready  to  be  published  next  season,  Moxon  would  give 
him  anything  for  the  copyright,  and  if  anything, 
what  ?  You  might  dexterously  throw  in  that  I 
have  a  promise  that  any  article  I  might  write  should 
be  admitted  either  in  the  Edinburgh  or  Quarterly, 
and  that  I  could  vouch  for  the  books  being  reviewed 
in  one  or  both." 

This  year  Brookfield  went  in  for  the  declamation 
prize — which  he  ultimately  carried  off.  He  had  earlier 
asked  Hallam's  advice  about  his  work,  who  had  rephed 
in  the  following  words — 

"  Dear  Brooks, — 

"  It  was  very  kind  of  you  to  answer  me  so  soon.  I 
wish  from  my  heart  I  could  say  or  do  anything  of 
benefit  to  you  in  your  sad  disappointment.  You  will 
endeavour,  I  know,  to  endure  with  humility  and  to 
make  it  good  for  yourself  to  have  been  afflicted.  I 
know  it  is  hard  to  chain  the  Bay  of  Biscay  ;  yet  there 
is  One  whose  Spirit  moves  on  the  face  of  the  waters 
evermore,  as  on  the  first  day,  bringing  light  and  peace 
out  of  chaotic  darkness  and  confusion.  I  am  not 
talking  thus  from  any  sort  of  parade  or  affectation, 
but  from  the  desire  which  I  cannot  but  have,  that 
you  should  feel,  if  possible,  as  I  feel. 

"  I  have  this  moment  heard  that  seven  cases  of 
Cholera  have  occurred  in  London,  whither  I  was  going 
on  Friday.  What  if  this  note  should  be  the  last  bit 
of  chaff  between  us  ?  My  intention  has  been  to  come 
to  Cambridge  about  Saturday  week  :  perhaps,  how- 
ever, this  news  may  make  a  difference  ;  it  may  not 
be  right  for  me  to  leave  home,  unless  the  rest  do — and 
it  is  possible   Mrs.  Tennyson  may  take  it  into  her 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  145 

head  that  my  visit  is  dangerous.  Nobody  that  one 
meets  seems  to  care  at  all  about  cholera  now  ;  but  it 
remains  to  be  seen  what  the  effects  of  it  coming  to 
town  may  be. 

"  With  regard  to  your  Declamation.  I  am  entirely 
without  books  at  present  and  I  do  not  carry  much 
history  in  my  head  ;  nevertheless,  although  I  can't 
well  sketch  an  outhne,  at  least  till  I  get  more  materials, 
I  can  give  a  hint  or  two.  What  think  you  of  this 
subject — the  persecuting  of  the  Catholics  under  Eliza- 
beth ?  There  is  much  to  be  said  on  both  sides.  If 
you  defend  it,  Southey's  Book  of  the  Church  and 
VindicicB  EcclesicB  Anglicance  are  your  books ;  if 
not,  Butler's  Book  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church  and 
Historical  Memoirs  of  English,  Irish  and  Scottish 
Catholics ;  also  Lingard's  History,  and  my  father's. 
I  think  it  is  a  very  good  subject.  On  the  one  side 
you  have  the  plots  of  the  Jesuits,  and  partizans  of 
Mary  may  be  made  the  most  of  ;  on  the  other  the 
loyalty  of  Catholics  against  the  Armada,  the  hardship 
of  the  acts  against  recusants,  the  execution  of  Campion 
and  others,  the  use  of  torture,  etc.  If  you  do  not 
relish  this,  I  must  endeavour  to  send  you  another. 

"  Meantime,  I  send  you  two  stanzas,  kindly  com- 
municated by  Dr.  Bowring,  intended  to  form  part  of 
his  forthcoming  volume,  entitled  ''pastorals  of  the  Bug 
and  Dnieper"  : 

Old  tree,  thou  art  not  the  same 

I  have  loved  of  old, 
Tho'  thou  bearest  no  other  name, 

'Tis  another  mould 
That  thy  broad  roots  hold  : 
Other  winds  are  round  thee  fighting. 

Old  tree,  tho'  thou  art  not  the  same. 
Yet  at  morning  tide, 
10— (2318) 


146        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

When  the  dawn  mist  nigh  thee  came, 

And  the  stirred  branch  sighed, 
I  forgot  all  beside. 
And  thought  thee  the  tree  I  dehght  in. 

"  Good-bye.  Monteith's  letter  is  not  come.  Give 
my  correspondents  notice  that  after  Friday  I  am  in 
London.     Distribute  my  love. 

"  Ever  yours  faithfully, 

"  A.  H.  Hallam. 
"  P.S. — I  have  not  heard  a  syllable  from  Somersby, 
which  rather  worries  me.     Let  me  know  if  you  have." 

Hallam,  who  kept  up  a  correspondence  with  Tenny- 
son at  Somersby — for  the  Tennyson's  now  filled  his 
thoughts  in  delightful  fashion — ^in  talking  to  him  of  his 
essay  on  Professor  Rossetti's  Disquisizioni  sullo  spirito 
Antipapale,  one  of  the  most  erudite  and  admirably 
balanced  pieces  of  work  that  ever  issued  from  so 
young  a  brain,  complained  to  him  :  "  The  last  time 
I  sent  you  a  pubhcation  of  mine  you  did  not  even 
deign  to  read  it.  When  should  I  have  done  the  Hke 
by  one  of  thine  ?  " 

And  he  said  to  Trench  at  this  time  : 

"  Alfred's  mind  is  what  it  always  was  ;  or,  rather, 
brighter  and  more  vigorous.  I  regret,  ^\^th  you,  that 
you  have  never  had  the  opportunity  of  kno\\dng  more 
of  him.  His  nervous  temperament  and  habits  of 
solitude  give  an  appearance  of  affectation  to  his 
manner  which  is  no  interpreter  of  the  man,  and  wears 
off  on  further  knowledge.  Perhaps  you  would  never 
become  very  intimate,  for  certainly  your  bents  of 
mind  are  not  the  same,  and  at  some  points  they  inter- 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  147 

sect ;   yet  I  think  you  would  hardly  fail  to  see  much 
for  love,  as  well  as  for  admiration." 

When  he  went  up  the  Rhine  with  Tennyson  in  1832, 
he  is  commonly  supposed  to  have  read  six  books  of 
Herodotus  to  please  his  father,  and  to  have  plunged 
into  David  Hartley  and  Buhle's  Philosophie  Moderne 
for  his  own  gratification. 

The  following  letter  must  have  been  sent  soon  after 
this  expedition,  and  after  he  had  taken  his  degree  and 
left  the  College  : 

"  Dearest  Brooks, — 

"  Well  may  you  have  thought  my  conduct  atrocious, 
and  atrocious  in  sober  fact  it  may  be  considered  ;  but 
I  have  not  been  without  excuse.  When  your  first 
letter  reached  me,  months  ago,  I  was  very  unwell, 
and  very  wretched — not  merely  hipped,  as  usual,  but 
suffering  the  pressure  of  a  severe  anxiety,  which, 
although  past,  has  left  me  much  worn  in  spirit.  x\s  I 
began  to  get  better  Alfred  came  up  to  town,  and 
persuaded  me  to  go  abroad  with  him.  So  we  went  to 
the  Rhine  for  a  month,  and,  as  we  had  little  coin 
between  us,  talked  much  of  economy  ;  but  the  only 
part  of  our  principles  we  reduced  to  practice  was  the 
reduction  of  such  expenses  as  letter- writing,  etc. 
Really,  I  often  vowed  to  Alfred  I  would  write  to  you, 
and  as  often  he  got  into  a  pet,  and  jingled  the  bag  of 
Naps,  whose  ringing  sound  began  to  come  daily 
fainter  on  the  ear,  and  their  fair  golden  forms  daily 
to  occupy  less  space  in  the  well-stuffed  portmanteau. 
We  have  now  returned,  and  are  at  Somersby.  I  fear 
I  cannot  stay  here  long  ;  but  I  snatch  the  gift  of  the 
hour,  and  am  thankful.     I  have  been  very  miserable 


148        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

since  I  saw  you  ;  my  hopes  grow  fainter  and  fewer, 
yet  I  hope  on,  and  will,  until  the  last  ray  is  gone,  and 

then .     Emily,  thank  heaven,  is  better  than  she 

has  been,  and  I  think  rather  more  cheerful.  Somersby 
looks  glorious  in  full  pride  of  leafy  summer.  I  would 
I  could  fully  enjoy  it  ;  but  ghosts  of  the  Past  and 
wraiths  of  the  Future  are  perpetually  troubling  me. 
I  am  a  very  unfortunate  being  ;  yet,  when  I  look  into 
Emily's  eyes,  I  sometimes  think  there  is  happiness 
reserved  for  me.  Certainly  I  am  by  nature  sanguine 
and  hopeful  :  I  was  not  framed  for  despondency. 
If  circumstances  were  as  I  wish  them,  I  hardly  think 
I  should  moodily  seek  for  new  causes  of    disquiet. 

"  I  heard  the  other  day  from  Trench  ;  he  is  at 
Stradbally,  mild  and  happy,  bless  him  !  and  thinking 
about  the  Church  and  the  Morning  Watch  still. 
Tennant  is  at  Cambridge  ;  also  Spedding — I  saw  them 
passing  through.  .  .  .  Alfred  is  better  in  health  and 
spirits  than  I  have  seen  him  this  long  while. 

"  Now  good-bye,  old  cove,  for  the  present ;  and 
prithee  don't  talk  of  alienation  and  all  that,  when 
thou  writest  next.  If  sometimes  under  the  immediate 
touch  of  new  pain  or  pleasure  I  do  not  look  on  all 
sides  and  remember  how  much  existence  there  is  out 
of  my  actual  mood,  why,  bear  with  me  a  little  ;  it 
is  selfish,  but  it  is  human  ;  a  word,  a  tone,  a  look  at 
any  time,  I  believe,  recalls  me  to  a  sense  of  what  I 
owe  to  those  whom  I  love,  inter  alios,  to  Master 
Brooks. 

^'  Believe  me,  therefore,  always, 

"Your  very  affectionate, 

"  A.  H.  H." 

The  depressions  and  the  apprehensive  fears  from 
which  Tennyson,  Hallam,  and  sometimes  even  Brook- 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  149 

field,  suffered,  were  not  exactly  of  the  nature  which 
had  distracted  at  times  Sterling,  Maurice  and  Tiench  : 
the  despondencies  of  the  former  were  mainly  mystical, 
while  those  of  the  latter  were  invariably  theological. 

Hallam  was  at  that  time  making  an  earnest  en- 
deavour to  obtain  a  living  for  Trench,  which  however, 
to  the  disappointment  of  both,  but  especially  of 
Hallam,  came  to  nothing.  This  busying  of  himself 
on  behalf  of  his  friends  was  a  favourite  and  charac- 
teristic pastime  with  Arthur  Hallam.  He  did  it  for 
all ;  his  heart  was  full  of  a  tender  and  thoughtful 
generosity.  Trench,  writing  to  Donne  a  little  later, 
says  :  **  Of  Hallam  I  know  nothing.  H  you  can  in- 
form me  on  this  point,  pray  do  so.  Some  one  told  me 
he  was  reading  History  with  his  father,  who,  I  suppose, 
supplies  the  facts,  and  Arthur  the  philosophy." 

But  Arthur  was  reading  Blackstone.  His  father, 
not  quite  sure  of  the  bent  of  that  "  adventurous 
mind,"  had  entered  him  at  Inner  Temple,  thinking 
the  Law  would  be  a  useful  discipline  to  a  poetic  dis- 
position such  as  his  ;  but  Arthur  writes  to  Brook- 
field : 

"  My  dear  Brooks, — 

"  Although  you  hinted,  when  I  was  with  you,  that 
you  had  an  objection  to  short  letters,  you  can  hardly 
expect  me  to  reform  my  conduct  in  this  respect  at 
present.  Indeed,  I  find  no  sort  of  time  as  yet  for 
anything  the  interest  of  which  is  not  strictly  con- 
fined within  the  walls  of  Somersby.  How  I  am  to 
read  Blackstone  here  is  one  of  those  mysteries  which 


150        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

I  consider  insoluble  by  human  reason  ;    even  Dante, 
even  Alfred's  poetry,  is  at  a  discount. 

"  Dear  Brooks,  you  encouraged  me  to  write  personal 
twaddle,  and  I  have  need  of  telling  you  how  happ\^  I 
have  been,  am,  and  seem  likely  to  be.     I  would  you 
were  happy  too  ;  for,  however  I  trust  your  friendship, 
and  know  besides  that  the  mind    takes   a    strange 
delight  sometimes    in    the    contemplation    of    moods 
more  joyous  than  its  own,  I  cannot  but  feel  that  there 
must  mingle  some  pain  with  your  knowledge  of  my 
joy.     All  things  hitherto  I  have  found  as  well,  better 
than  I  could  have  expected.     Emily  is  not  apparently 
in  a  state  of  health  that  need  much  disquiet  me,  and 
her  spirits  are,  as  I  hoped,  more  animated  by  confi- 
dence and  hope.     Every  shadow  of — not  doubt,  but 
uneasiness,  or  what  else  may  be  a  truer  name  for  the 
feeling  that  Alfred's  language  sometimes  casts  over 
my  hopes — is  destroyed  in  the  full  blaze  of  conscious 
delight   with  which   I   perceive   that   she   loves   me. 
And  I — I  love  her  madly  ;    I  feel  as  though  I  had 
never  known  love  till  now.    The  love  of  absence  I 
had  known,  and  searched  its  depths  with  patient  care, 
but  the  love  of  presence  methinks  I  knew  not,  for 
heretofore  I  was  always  timid  and  oppressed  by  the 
uncertain  vision  of  futurity,  and  the  warning  narrow- 
ing form  of  the  present.     (1  am  writing  arrant  non- 
sense— never  mind.)     Now  I  feel  above  consequence, 
freed  from  destiny,  at  home  with  happiness.     Never 
before  have  I  known  at  one  moment  the  luxury  of 
actual  dehght,  the  reasonable  assurance  of  its  pro- 
longation through  a  happy  life,  and  the  peace  which 
arises  out  of  a  tranquil  conscience  to  sanctify  and 
establish  all  the  rest.     Not  without  the  blessing  of 
God  has  this  matter  been  brought  thus  far  :    I  humbly 
hope  this  is  a  sign  of  its  continuance,  but  I  beheve  I 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  151 

speak  my  heart  when  I  say  that,  eagerly  as  I  love  her, 
I  truly  desire  to  submit  all  my  hopes  and  desires  to 
the  love  of  God,  and  that  it  would  cost  me  httle  to 
lose  the  highest  blessings  of  this  life,  would  God  but 
grant  me — 

^Soul  to  soul  to  grow  deathless  hers.' 

"  Do  you  want  details  of  what  I  do  ?  I  know  not 
where  to  begin  ;  yet,  to  be  a  little  more  sober,  I  will 
try  to  bethink  me  of  what  has  occurred.  I  found  no 
great  fear  of  cholera  ;  thanks  to  shortsightedness  or 
something,  nobody  found  out  the  Marylebone  case  in 
the  paper,  though  there  it  was,  large  as  life — or  death, 
I  should  say.  Alfred  is,  as  I  expected,  not  apparently 
ill  ;  nor  can  I  persuade  myself  anything  real  is  the 
matter.  His  spirits  are  better,  his  habits  more 
regular,  his  condition  altogether  healthier.  He  is 
fully  wound  up  to  pubHcation,  and  having  got  £100 
from  Mrs.  Russell,  talks  of  going  abroad.  C.  and  F. 
are  well ;  the  former  has  written  two  sonnets  ;  all 
three  have  taken  to  digging — one  more  resemblance  of 
Somersby  to  Paradise.  Several  things  are  changed 
here  since  my  former  visits  ;  some  for  the  worse, 
e.g.,  Emily  and  Mary  have  shamefully  neglected  their 
singing.  I  marvel  at  your  indulgent  mention,  on  the 
faith  of  a  lover,  they  sang  six  times  as  w^ell  two  years 
ago.  Part  of  my  mind  is  cut  away  by  it.  There  are 
no  horses  rideable,  which  is  a  bore  ;  on  the  other 
hand,  there  are  curtains  in  the  dining-room,  which  is 
a  lounge.  Charles  sleeps  much  less,  but  never  reads. 
I  have  been  endeavouring  to  find  time  to  teach 
Horatio  his  Latin,  but  since  the  strange  revolution  in 
the  course  of  nature  by  which  the  number  of  hours  in 
the  day  has  become  so  much  smaller,  it  is  difficult, 
you  know,  to  find  time  and  leisure  for  anything. 
Much  Italian  lesson  goes  on  after  breakfast  :    '  amo 


152        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

ami,'  etc.  Mary  seems  well,  and  learns  Italian 
prettily  ;  nevertheless,  I  think  her  somewhat  dimin- 
ished in  beauty  since  my  former  sojourn.  I  am 
an  impartial  judge  certainly,  for  I  looked  much  less 
at  her  face  then  than  now.  The  whole  state  of  the 
music  is  sadly  inferior  to  what  it  used  to  be  :  I  must 
try  to  reform  things  .  .  . 

''Write  home,  will  you  ?  Tell  me  about  all  things, 
especially  yourself.  I  beheve  M.  and  G.  must  come 
here  :  Fred,  seems  to  have  changed  his  mind,  and  I 
am  sure  I  have  not.  More  of  this.  Love  to  Trench, 
and  the  few. 

''  Very  affectionately  yours, 

"A.  H.  H." 

Hallam's  engagement  to  Emily  Tennyson  was  in  1832 
an  accomphshed  fact.  Did  he  not  write,  ''  I  am  now 
at  Somersby — not  only  as  the  friend  of  Alfred  Tenny- 
son, but  as  the  lover  of  his  sister  ?  "  And  the  happiness 
which  showed  its  first  gleam  in  this  letter  shed  an 
unwaning  light  over  the  remainder  of  his  days. 

Brookfield,  Garden  and  Spedding  were  of  those 
favoured  ones  who  gathered  at  the  Tennysons  that 
summer,  when — 

O  Bliss,  when  all  in  circle  drawn 
About  him,  heart  and  ear  were  fed 
To  hear  him,  as  he  lay  and  read 
The  Tuscan  Poets  on  the  lawn. 

It  was  then  that  they  stayed  up  so  late  talking 
that  the  morning  came  upon  them  unawares,  when, 
instead  of  retiring  to  rest,  they  walked  over  the  hills 
in  order  to  meet  the  sunrise. 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  153 

Arthur,  during  the  time  he  was  teaching  his  young 
betrothed  Itahan,  once  said  to  her — in  prophetic 
vein — "  Many  ages  after  we  all  have  been  laid  in  dust, 
young  lovers  of  the  beautiful  and  the  true  may  seek 
in  faithful  pilgrimage  the  spot  where  Alfred's  mind  was 
moulded."  There  is  no  evidence  that  his  previous 
attachment  "  To  one  early  loved,  now  in  India,"  was 
more  than  a  boyish  enthusiasm.  His  affection  for 
his  friend's  sister  was  the  great  and  real  emotion  of  his 
young  life,  and  rounds  off  and  completes  a  career  of 
singular  beauty.  He  was  not  well  during  the  spring 
of  1833  ;  he  wrote  to  Brookfield  complaining  of  the 
*'  frequent  touches  of  illness  "  which  attacked  him,  and 
Kemble  said  :  "  Hallam  has  gone  back  to  Cambridge. 
He  was  not  well  while  he  was  in  London  ;  moreover,  he 
was  submitting  himself  to  the  influences  of  the  outer 
world  more  than  (I  think)  a  man  of  his  genius  ought 
to  do."  This  had  regard  to  the  extraordinary  gaiety 
which  came  upon  him  during  his  last  days,  while 
Blakesley  wrote :  "  Alfred  Tennyson  is  in  town  with 
the  professed  purpose  of  studying  the  Elgin  marble. 
Hallam  is  fatter,"  which  looks  as  if  they  were  even 
then  concerned  for  his  health.  It  was  during  this 
London  visit  that  the  young  men  endeavoured  to  get 
Henry  Hallam's  opinion  upon  the  merits  of  Alfred's 
new  work,  "  (Enone  " — but,  to  their  distress,  "  he  was 
called  away  in  the  middle  of  Venus,"  and  therefore 
never  heard  the  poem  through. 

Hallam  was  now  studying  law  in  some  earnest, 
though  to  his  friends  he  would  say,  sometimes  lightly 


154        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

sometimes  sadly,  that  he  should  do  little  as  a  barrister, 
and  implied  that  it  was  only  to  please  his  father  he 
went  on  with  it  at  all,  while  he  seemed  to  cherish  the 
hope  that  something  would  one  day  lead  him  into 
another  more  congenial  walk  of  life. 

Of  his  poetic  work,  ''  To  Two  Sisters  " — verses 
written  to  Emily  and  Mary  Tennyson — is  the  most 
complete  after  his  ''  Meditative  Fragments  ";  but 
in  ''  A  Scene  in  Rome  "  we  get  this  striking  passage  : 

a  dark  night  waits  us — 
Another  moment,  we  must  plunge  within  it — 
Let  us  not  mar  the  ghmpses  of  pure  Beauty, 
Now  streaming  in  Hke  moonhght,  with  the  fears. 
The  joys,  the  hurried  thoughts,  that  rise  and  fall 
To  the  hot  pulses  of  a  mortal  heart. 

His  poems — all  too  few  ! — are  scholarly  in  form, 
and  full  of  fancy  and  picturesqueness.  But  it  is  to 
his  essays  we  must  turn  if  we  would  appreciate,  even 
partially,  the  wide  extent  of  his  knowledge,  the  sound- 
ness of  his  judgment,  the  readiness  of  his  resource,  the 
brilliancy  of  his  style,  and,  conspicuous  above  all,  the 
unvarying  loftiness  of  his  aim. 

Before  Hallam  went  off  on  his  last  journey  with  his 
father,  he  assisted  one  night  at  a  supper  given  in 
Tennyson's  rooms — a  festival  which  was  kept  up  till 
4  a.m.  Next  day  he  and  Alfred  and  "  a  troup  of 
them  "  called  on  Rogers  in  order  to  see  his  pictures, 
and  being  left  for  a  Httle  in  that  gentleman's  hbrary, 
looked  through  his  books.  To  their  chagrin,  they 
found  in  a  place  of  honour  Charles  Tennyson's  sonnets, 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  155 

but  no  trace  of  a  poem  by  Alfred  !  Soon  after  this 
Hallam  wrote  to  Tennyson,  then  in  Scotland,  "  I  feel 
a  strong  desire  to  write  to  you,  a  yearning  for  dear 
old  Alfred  comes  upon  me,"  and  he  sent  him  Hartley 
Coleridge's  poems.  And  to  Miss  Tennyson  he  sent 
a  present  of  the  Pensees  de  Pascal  and  Silvio 
Pellico.  Then  Trench  gives  the  information  : 
"...  Hallam  is  or  has  been  in  Germany  with  his 
father.  He  was  most  absurdly  gay  last  season,  a 
mood  and  habit  so  unsuited  to  his  character  that  I 
cannot  believe  the  tendency  will  last  long." 

On  September  6,1833,  Arthur  Hallam  wrote  a  letter  full 
of  praise  of  a  gallery  of  pictures,  and  sent  it  to  Tenny- 
son, with  the  end  six  lines  of  one  of  his  "  Fragments  " — 

I  do  but  mock  me  with  these  questionings. 

Dark,  dark,  yea — "  irrecoverably  dark  " 

Is  the  soul's  eye  :    yet  how  it  strives  and  battles 

Through  th'  impenetrable  gloom  to  fix 

That  master  light,  the  secret  truth  of  things, 

Which  is  the  body  of  the  Infinite  God. 

Nine  days  later  he  lay  dead  in  Vienna  from  a  pres- 
sure of  blood  upon  the  brain. 

As  the  news  of  his  death  arrived  in  England,  it  was 
received  with  profound  despair  ;  all  felt  "  a  hght  had 
been  extinguished,"  and  each  of  his  friends  dreaded 
to  tell  the  other,  and  when  they  did,  they  said,  "  We 
must  be  more  earnest  workers  since  the  labourers  are 
fewer,"  and  grieved  openly  over  the  blasting  of 
the  schemes  and  anticipations  they  had  formed 
for  him.     The  Tennysons  were  the  last  to  hear  the 


156        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

news  officially,  but  by-and-by  Mr.  Hallam  sent  word 
of  it  to  them  through  his  brother-in-law,  Mr.  Elton, 
and  when  he  himself  wrote,  it  was  to  urge  them — poor 
father — "  not  to  grieve." 

Arthur  Hallam  was  twenty-two  years  of  age  when  he 
died.  Though  the  amount  of  actual  work  he  produced 
in  his  few  years  of  life  may  not  be  great,  yet  it  is  sure 
that  few  people  born  into  this  world  ever  in  so  short 
an  existence  made  such  an  impression  upon  his  fellows 
of  distinct  individuality  and  uncommon  power  as  did 
this  gifted  youth.  Knowledge,  success,  friendship, 
love,  all  were  his,  and  each  in  its  most  perfect  form. 
It  is  useless  to  speculate  as  to  what  this  attractive 
genius  might  or  might  not  have  performed  had  he  but 
lived. 

"  There  was  nothing  in  the  region  of  the  mind 
which  he  might  not  have  accomphshed,"  said  Glad- 
stone, who  thought  that  Hallam  was  probably  the  one 
meant  to  right  this  world  and  to  deal  with  it  compre- 
hensively. "  I  mourn  in  him,  for  myself,  my  earliest 
near  friend  ;  for  my  fellow  creatures,  one  who  would 
have  adorned  his  age  and  country,  a  mind  full  of 
beauty  and  of  power,  attaining  almost  to  that  ideal 
standard  of  which  it  is  presumption  to  expect  an 
example.     When  shall  I  see  his  like  ?  " 

When  Kemble  wrote  to  his  sister  Fanny  to  announce 
Hallam's  death,  he  said — 

"  It  is  a  bitter  blow  to  all  of  us  .  .  .  most  of  all  to 
the  Tennysons,  whose  sister  Emily  he  was  to  have 


ARTHUR    H.    HALLAM  157 

married.  I  have  not  yet  had  the  courage  to  write  to 
Alfred.  This  is  a  loss  which  ^rill  most  assuredly  be 
felt  by  this  age,  for  if  ever  man  was  born  for  great 
things,  he  was.  Never  was  a  more  powerful  intellect 
joined  to  a  purer  and  holier  heart  ;  and  the  whole 
illuminated  with  the  richest  imagination,  with  the 
most  sparkling  yet  the  kindest  wit.  One  cannot 
lament  for  him  that  he  is  gone  to  a  far  better  life,  but 
we  weep  over  his  cofhn  and  wonder  that  we  cannot 
be  consoled ;  the  Roman  epitaph  on  two  young 
children,  '  Sibimet  ipsis  dolorem  abstulerunt,  suis 
reliquere '  (from  themselves  they  took  away  pain, 
to  their  friends  they  left  it),  is  always  present  in  my 
mind,  and  somehow  the  miserable  feeling  of  loneliness 
comes  over  one  even  though  one  knows  that  the  dead 
are  happier  than  the  living." 

Monckton  Milnes,  in  dedicating  a  volume  of  poems 
to  Henry  Hallam,  a  month  after  Arthur's  death,  said — 

*'  In  offering  this  little  book  to  your  name,  I  am 
paying  my  feeble  but  ardent  homage  to  him  who  is 
gone.  We,  the  contemporaries  of  your  dear  son,  are 
deprived  not  only  of  a  beloved  friend,  of  a  delightful 
companion,  but  of  a  most  \\dse  and  influential  coun- 
cillor in  all  the  serious  concerns  of  existence  ;  of  an 
incomparable  critic  in  all  our  literary  efforts,  and  of 
the  example  of  one  who  was  as  much  before  us  in 
everything  else  as  he  now  is  in  the  way  of  hfe." 

And  Spedding  wrote — 

"  The  compositions  which  he  has  left,  marvellous 
as  they  are,  are  inadequate  evidence  of  his  actual 
powers.  ...  I  have  met  no  man  his  equal  as  a 
philosophical  critic  on  works  of  taste  ;   no  man  whose 


158        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

views  on  all  subjects  connected  with  the  duties  and 
dignities  of  humanity  were  more  large,  more  generous, 
and  enlightened." 

And  while  remembrances  and  memorials  of  him  accu- 
mulated and  multiplied,  there  came  at  last,  in  1850, 
from  the  poet  Tennyson,  his  dear  and  cherished  friend, 
the  greatest  elegiac  in  the  Enghsh  language — the 
grandest  monument  that  ever  perpetuated  a  memory. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

JOHN    MITCHELL   KEMBLE 

Thou  art  no  Sabbath-drawler  of  old  saws 
Distilled  from  some  worm-canker'd  homily  ; 
But  spurr'd  at  heart  with  fiercest  energy 
To  embattail  and  to  wall  about  thy  cause. 

Thou  from  a  throne 
Mounted  in  heaven  will  shoot  into  the  dark 
Arrows  of  lightnings.     I  will  stand  and  mark. 

(Tennyson) 

John  Kemble,  "  Jacky  Kemble "  "  Anglo  Saxon 
Kemble  "  the  brightest  and  cheeriest  of  the  "  Apos- 
tles/' possessed  all  the  intuition,  all  the  genial  flow 
and  spirit,  all  the  alluring  grace  and  genius  of  the 
talented  family  to  which  he  belonged  ;  and  to  these 
gifts  were  added  profound  erudition  and  wide  mental 
capacity. 

With  Spedding,  Donne,  and  Edward  Fitzgerald, 
he  was  educated  at  the  Grammar  School  of  Bury  St. 
Edmunds,  where  he  was  esteemed  by  his  companions 
a  studious  lad  with  strong  literary  proclivities. 
He  was  much  admired  by  these  early  friends,  over 
whom  as  a  boy  he  towered  intellectually  ;  his  studies 
taking  him  even  in  early  days  into  paths  so  unusual 


i6o        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

for  a  youth,  that  he  sometimes  outstripped  his  teachers  : 
his  guides  frequently  losing  sight  of  him,  only  to  find 
him  later  on — far  ahead,  showing  them  the  road. 

For  a  period  he  printed  for  himself — with  a  toy  hand- 
press,  a  newspaper,  six  inches  square,  in  the  style  of 
a  daily  journal — a  publication  which  was  the  delight 
of  his  circle  and  which  he  filled  with  compositions 
of  his  own.  Prose  or  poetry — nothing  came  amiss : 
but  it  is  evident  he  then  excelled  in  verse.  He 
had  in  him  as  great  an  amount  of  the  poetic  fervour 
as  any  of  the  group  he  afterwards  joined ;  and  they, 
without  exception,  whether  they  exercised  their  gifts 
or  not  in  after  life,  seem  all  to  have  been  poets  in 
boyhood. 

At  Bury  St.  Edmunds  he  gained  an  exhibition 
which  took  him  to  Cambridge,  where  he  arrived  with 
the  fairest  of  prospects  before  him,  and  the  makings 
of  a  great  man  within  him.  This  was  loudly  pro- 
claimed by  all  his  friends,  and  these  in  his  first  year 
included  Maurice,  SterHng,  Buller  and  Trench — to 
which  bright  list  he  added  other  brilHant  names, 
as  they  came  to  the  fore. 

At  Sterling's  suggestion  he  was  made  an  "  Apostle  " 
and  he  became  one  of  the  "  Society's  "  most  popular 
speakers — not  only  on  account  of  his  oratorical  powers, 
which  were  considerable,  but  also  because  "  bitter 
with  politics  "  (a  bitterness  "  Apostolic  "  tradition  in 
no  way  discouraged)  he  had  strong  likes  and  disHkes 
which  flavoured  the  flow  of  his  eloquence  with 
either  the   sweetness  of   enthusiasm   or  the   acridity 


John  Mitchell  Kemble 


JOHN    MITCHELL    KEMBLE  i6i 

of  vituperation.  His  speeches  never  had  the  in- 
sipidity due  to  lack  of  prejudice.  Much  as  the 
"  Apostles  "  expected  from  one  another,  they  seem  to 
have  expected  most  from  John  Mitchell  Kemble. 
Of  none  of  them  have  clearer,  better  defined  pictures 
been  left  ;  pictures  which,  by  whomsoever  traced,  give 
invariably  a  vivid  impression  of  power  and  of  pleasant- 
ness. Yet  Kemble  was  the  one  of  the  **  Apostles  " 
on  whom  perhaps  their  divergent  teachings  left  the 
deepest  mark,  and  if  these  marks  did  not,  thanks  to 
his  natural  sense  and  independent  spirit,  leave  him 
rebellious  or  discontented,  yet  they  interfered  with 
his  outlook  and  prevented  him  from  achieving  the 
conventional  satisfaction  or  extraordinary  reward 
which  the  "  Society  "  predicted  and  hoped  for  him. 
He  gave  his  mind  early  to  the  science  of  politics, 
and  kept  up  his  interest  in  this  subject  so  closely  that 
his  classics  and  mathematics  suffered  in  consequence. 
Though,  on  the  other  hand,  he  gained  through  this 
study  an  amount  of  general  information  which  ren- 
dered him  of  the  greatest  assistance  to  hterary 
"  Apostles  "  and  an  ''  oracle  "  in  their  eyes. 

The  matter  and  the  style  of  his  numerous  letters — 
which  wherever  they  occur  gild  and  embellish  the 
memoirs  of  Trench,  Tennyson,  Merivale  and  Donne — 
show  the  vigour  of  his  mind  and  the  acuteness  of  his 
critical  faculties,  and  also  the  position  he  held  in  the 
confidence  and  affection  of  those  great  men.  The 
"  Apostles,"  who  all  of  them  loved  him,  decided 
that    "  Jacky "    Kemble   was   to   become   a   burning 

light.     He   was   to   go   into    the  Church  ;   put    that 
II— (2318) 


i62        THE    CAMBRIDGE    ''APOSTLES" 

establishment  in  order  and,  so  soon  as  he  should  have 
achieved  therein  a  sufficiently  authoritative  position, 
re-arrange  and  control  the  religions  and  politics  of 
the  entire  world.  He  had  his  "  black  "  time — when 
seeing  he  was  not  fulfilling  his  own  promise  he  cried 
out,  "  If  I  could  read  mathematics  with  Blakesley  or 
sleep  on  the  sofa  with  Hallam  or  Donne  in  the  day- 
time, I  might  be  a  happier  man." 

He  was  extraordinarily  handsome  with  the  noble 
brow  and  fine-cut  classical  features  which  have  ever 
distinguished  his  family.  Gronow  says  of  the 
Kembles  :  "  There  is  not  only  the  stamp  of  genius 
and  talent  of  a  high  order  in  this  gifted  family,  but 
also  a  certain  nobility  of  mind  and  feeling.  We  might 
say  of  one  of  them,  '  He  or  she  comes  of  good  stock,' 
and  expect  from  them  a  kind  word,  a  generous  im- 
pulse, a  self-denying  action.  No  mean  thought  could 
take  its  birth  in  those  grand  broad  foreheads,  expres- 
sive of  the  majestic  calmness  of  strength  and  power, 
and  these  full,  firm,  kind  lips  could  not  give  vent  to 
petty,  spiteful,  or  malicious  words.  They  were  of  the 
men  and  women  one  meets  sometimes  in  good  old 
England  ;  not  of  the  common  clay,  but  cast  in  the 
Titanic  mould.  Would  there  were  more  such  in  our 
days  of  mediocrity." 

When  Hallam  and  Tennyson  first  came  to  College, 
Kemble  welcomed  them  in  enthusiastic  whole-hearted 
style.  It  was  he  who  got  people  together  to  hear  the  two 
engage  with  himself  in  "  magnificent  conversations." 
He  bowed  before  Hallam,  who  was   always  greatly 


JOHN    MITCHELL    KEMBLE  163 

attached  to  him,  and  he  said  of  Tennyson,  whom  he 
admired  exceedingly,  "  In  Alfred's  mind  the  mater- 
ials of  the  very  greatest  works  are  heaped  in  an  abun- 
dance which  is  almost  confusion." 

Frequent  were  the  festivals  in  which  ''  Apostles  " 
and  "  philo-apostles "  talked  many  suns  down  in 
Kemble's,  Tennyson's,  Hallam's,  or  Spedding's  rooms. 
And  sometimes  Kemble  would  at  these  meetings  betray 
a  trace  of  inborn  theatrical  instinct ;  as  when,  on  one 
occasion,  after  a  late  convivial  sitting,  it  transpired 
that  one  of  the  party  had  playfully  hidden  his  "  mortar- 
board." Kemble  seriously  resented  the  Hberty,  and 
with  fire  flashing  from  his  eyes  he  exclaimed,  in  tragic 
tones,  "  Whosoever  it  were,  had  better  have  touched 
a  sleeping  tiger  than  that  cap  !  " 

When  he  took  up  the  study  of  Anglo-Saxon  he  began 
to  spend  his  vacations  in  Germany  in  order  to  take 
courses  at  various  Universties  there ;  and  Trench 
said  once  to  him — 

"  You  tell  me  nothing  of  your  plans  and  I  have  no 
right  or  wish,  beyond  the  great  interest  I  take  in  them. 
It  is  with  no  selfish  desire  of  retaining  the  pleasure  of 
your  company  that  I  express  my  earnest  hope  that 
you  will  not  fulfil  your  intention  of  quitting  this 
country.  I  am  sure  you  could  do  much  more  good  for 
yourself  and  others  here." 

Sterling  was  apprehensive  of  the  result  of  German 
thought  upon  him  ;  but  by  the  time  Kemble  went  to 
Germany  a  second   time,  he  had  passed  through  his 


i64        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

undecided  phase,  and  had  made  up  his  mind  to  enter 
the  Church  ;  and  Tennyson  had  written  the  very  fine 
sonnet  upon  him  which  begins — 

My  hope  and  heart  is  with  thee — thou  wilt  be 
A  latter  Luther,  and  a  soldier-priest 
To  scare  Church-harpies  from  the  master's  feast ; 
Our  dusted  velvets  have  much  need  of  thee. 

It  was  at  Munich  that  he  first  heard  his  sister  Fanny 
was  about  to  make  an  appearance  upon  the  stage.  He 
took  up  a  newspaper  and  saw — "  Miss  F.  Kemble  will 
appear  in  '  Juliet/  "  which  news,  utterly  unexpected 
by  him,  gave  him,  he  says,  ''  the  sensation  of  a  cold 
sword  run  through  his  heart." 

Back  again  at  Cambridge  he  was  one  of  the  actors 
in  Much  Ado  About  Nothing,  on  the  occasion  when 
Milnes,  who  made  a  somewhat  portly  Beatrice,  as  he 
delivered  the  words,  "  He  is  no  less  than  a  stuffed  man, 
but  for  the  stuffing — well,  we  are  all  mortal,"  fell 
through  his  couch  to  the  floor  of  the  stage,  and  before 
he  was  buried  beneath  his  petticoats  uttered  an  ejacu- 
lation entirely  out  of  keeping  with  the  character  he  was 
playing.     To  Donne,  Kemble  said  of  this  performance — 

*'  Conceive  Hallam  and  myself  setting  our  faces  and 
taming  ourselves  into  stupidity,  that  we  might  pre- 
sent some  distant  resemblance  of  '  Verges '  and  '  Dog- 
berry.' I  can  assure  you  if  laughing  be  a  criterion, 
no  company  ever  did  better,  for  from  first  to  last, 
especially  during  the  tragic  scenes,  the  audience  were 
in  a  roar." 

While  Tennant  at  the  same  time  sent  to  the  same 


JOHN    MITCHELL    KEMBLE  165 

gentleman  a  delightful  specimen  of  an  "  Apostolical  " 
letter— 

"  Dear  Donne, — 

"  There  are  reasons  infinite  for  your  putting  the 
accompanying  volume  of  Coleridge  on  your  shelf  for 
me  :  first,  because  I  stole  your  Queen  Mab,  which  I 
do  not  intend  to  return,  but  this  will  reheve  my  con- 
science ;  fifthly,  the  book  in  respect  that  it  is  a  book 
is  a  good  book,  though  in  respect  it  is  Coleridge's  it 
might  have  been  better  ;  thirdly  and  lastly,  I  want 
you  to  read  it ;  and  so  conclude  I  want  it  to  be  bought 
and  have  no  hopes  of  your  buying  it.  Confound  it  !  I 
have  got  into  this  '  Dogberry '  arithmetic  from  hearing 
Kemble  act  in  Much  Ado,  etc.,  this  evening.  Milnes 
was  manager  of  the  concern,  and  in  propria  persona 
(credite  posteri  !)  played  '  Beatrice  ' !  Thirlwall,  I  verily 
expected,  would  have  died  with  most  wicked  laughter, 
when  '  Beatrice '  lifted  up  her  veil — had  he  not  laughed 
again  and  cured  himself  homoeopathetically — (if  you 
cannot  read  you  must  spell — Groemm  est).  Kemble 
was  'Dogberry,'  and  Hallam  took  'Verges'  :  all 
three  acted  extremely  well,  but  Kemble  excellently, 
except  that  he  enjoyed  it  rather  too  much  himself. 
An  Epilogue  by  Milnes  (extremely  good)  was  tacked 
on.  You  will,  I  believe,  receive  with  this  a  packet  of 
letters  from  all  your  correspondent  Cantabs  from 
whom  you  will  learn  that  Blakesley  is  going  to  trouble 
us  with  his  presence  at  Trinity  :  I  speak  seriously 
when  I  say  trouble,  for  I  am  afraid  he  stands  a  better 
chance  of  a  Fellowship  than  is  pleasant  for  a  rival  to 
think  of  :  could  you  not  contrive  to  get  him  to  join 
your  hunts,  etc.,  and  cause  him  to  break  his  neck  ;  or 
drown  him  in  love,  whereby  he  may  grow  poetical  and 
indulge    that    '  wise    passiveness '    which    the   rude 


i66        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

vulgar  call  idleness  ;  or  convert  him  to  Atheism,  so 
that  he  may  not  be  able  to  take  the  oaths  ?  The  last 
however,  is,  I  am  afraid,  hopeless,  for  should  we  suc- 
ceed in  making  him  an  Atheist,  it  by  no  means  follows 
that  he  could  not  subscribe  the  thirty-nine  articles 
which  are  acknowledged  to  be,  in  their  true  and  secret 
mystical  interpretation,  most  decidedly  Atheistical — 
at  least  so  S asserted  last  Saturday,  to  the  aston- 
ishment of  the  wise  and  good,  who  begin  to  think  him 
rather  profane  and  attribute  it  to  his  associating  and 
corresponding  with  you  ! 

''  In  order  to  ascertain  the  truth  of  this,  I  am  com- 
missioned by  certain  religious  members  of  the  Wise 
Society  to  receive  as  many  letters  as  I  can  get  from 
you,  by  which  you  are  to  be  tried,  and  if  found  guilty 
thou  shalt  die  the  death. 

"  To  tell  the  truth,  I  have  sent  Coleridge  by  way 
of  a  trap,  that  I  might  tempt  you  to  blaspheme  ! 

"  A  preface,  to  be  neat,  should  begin  in  the  middle 
of  one  page,  fill  the  next,  and  break  off  in  the  middle 
of  the  third  :  and  so  should  an  introductory  letter  of  a 
series  :  if  you  will  continue  the  series,  by  mine  honour 
I  wall  thank  you,  and  so  farewell." 

Tennant  was,  of  course,  an  *' Apostle",  and  a  great 
friend  of  Kemble  and  of  Donne. 

It  is  impossible  to  speak  of  Kemble  wdthout  mention- 
ing Donne,  for  their  friendship  was  one  of  the  especially 
close  and  beautiful  attachments  of  those  times.  A 
scholar  and  a  gentleman,  WilHam  Bodham  Donne  was 
an  ''  Apostle  "  of  the  eariier  group  and  possessed  of  all 
the  fineness  of  aim  and  all  the  graver  habits  of  thought 
which  characterized  that  set,  and  to  such  an  extent 


JOHN    MITCHELL    KEMBLE  167 

that  he,  after  due  consideration,  left  Cambridge  without 
taking  his  degree,  because  he  could  not  conscientiously 
subscribe  to  the  formula  of  adherence  to  Estabhshed 
Church  doctrines.  It  is  owing  to  this  step  and  his 
premature  secession  from  the  University  that  there 
are  so  many  "  Apostolic  "  letters  directed  to  him — 
the  Apostles  making  it  a  point  of  honour  to  keep  him 
posted  up  with  news.  He  occupied  a  high  place  in 
the  minds  and  hearts  of  the  "  wise  and  good  "  and  was 
himself  of  a  most  loveable  and  courtly  disposition.  He 
afterwards  did  subscribe,  though  he  did  not  enter  the 
Church.  Hallam  and  he  were  especially  happy  to- 
gether, and  writing  once  to  him  Hallam  said,  "I 
expect  you  to  be  properly  grateful  to  me  for  sending 
you  by  these  presents  another  poem,  of  which  to  say 
that  I  love  it  would  be  only  saying  that  it  is  his  (i.e. 
Tennyson's)." 

Kemble  gives  a  good  idea  of  Donne  in  one  of  his 
letters^to  Trench — 

"  I  recommend  you  to  make  as  short  work  as  you  can 
of  reinstating  yourself  in  my  favour,  by  directing  a 
long  and  philosophical  and  deHghtful  epistle  to  me  at 
Donne's.  As  I  know  you  have  seen  the  worthy  in- 
dividual whom  I  am  about  to  visit  at  no  very  distant 
period,  I  think  it  possible  you  might  know  that  that 
pleasure  was  in  store  for  me.  I  wish  most  sincerely 
that  you  could  be  added  to  the  circle  :  how  dehghtluUy 
we  might  spend  a  week  or  two  together  !  For  of  all 
the  unaffected  worthy  fellows  that  ever  it  was  my 
lot  to  fall  in  with  I  know  none  more  estimable  than 
Donne,  or  one  whose  talents  are  more  fitted  to  render 


i68        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

admirable  a  character  which  always  would  be  amiable. 
My  own  intercourse  with  him  has  been  long  and  inti- 
mate, and  little  as  I  have  to  boast  of,  to  him  I  owe 
much  of  that  httle.  I  anticipate  a  most  pleasurable 
time  with  him." 

To  which  Trench  replied — 

"  I  perfectly  agree  with  you  in  your  estimate  of  our 
friend  Donne's  character.  I  should  look  back  upon 
my  Cambridge  career  with  mingled  regret  for  wasted 
time,  etc.,  were  it  not  for  the  friendships  I  have  formed 
and  opinions  I  have  imbibed  (but  for  these  I  owe  the 
University  nothing)  and  among  these  connexions  I 
look  on  none  with  greater  pleasure  than  my  election 
to  the  Apostles,  and  trust  that  it  will  prove  a  connexion 
that  will  not  be  dissolved  with  many  of  its  members 
during  life." 

While  Donne  shows  his  appreciation  of  Kemble  in 
glowing  words — 

"  Ten  days  (alas  !  how  brief)  did  I  pass  delightfully 
and  profitably  with  Kemble  in  Westminster.  I  felt 
that  it  was  good  for  him  to  go  to  Germany,  his  spiritual 
cradle,  for  all  home-cradles  are  fast  becoming  fitter 
for  Iphiclus  than  for  Hercules  ;  but  I  cannot  tell  you 
of  the  feeHng  with  which  I  regarded  my  own  part  in 
such  a  separation.  For  many  years  he  had  been  to 
me  even  as  a  brother,  for  no  brother  could  be  more 
earnest  in  his  affection  or  constantly  zealous  in  well- 
doing. He  had  shared  my  inmost  thoughts,  the  very 
firsthngs  of  my  spirit  ;  he  had  become  as  one  of  my 
own  home-circle,  and  he  made  me  to  know  and  to  look 
up  to  you  before  we  were  personally  acquainted.     I 


JOHN    MITCHELL    KEMBLE  169 

had  seen  him  enslaved  for  a  time  by  the  specious  de- 
kision  of  falsehood  and  unphilosophy  ;  yet,  since  his 
spirit  and  his  affections  retained  their  childhood  fresh- 
ness, I  knew  that  it  was  his  understanding  only  that 
betrayed  him,  and  foresaw  the  day  of  his  regeneration. 
It  came,  and  I  now  reverence  him  as  earnestly  as 
before  I  fervently  loved  him.  It  was  not  a  brand 
snatched  from  the  burning  ;  he  was  merely  strewed  over 
awhile  by  dead  ashes  and  parching  dust ;  and  when 
he  uprose  from  among  them  the  dust  and  ashes  flew 
away,  and  he  walked  forth  strong  and  willing,  and 
working  the  good.  He  has  written  once  to  me  since 
he  arrived  in  Germany — a  letter  full  of  hope  and  faith 
and  ancient  earnestness — and  I  expect  another  very 
soon  from  Munich." 

Kemble  took  his  degree  in  1830,  and  had  started  off 
to  Germany,  as  though  never  to  return  from  that 
country.  He  found  there,  he  imagined,  all  he  wanted 
in  the  way  of  life  ;  the  Germans  with  their  deeper 
tone  of  thought  and  more  deliberate  methods  of  study, 
suited  him  well — yet,  for  a  possible  curacy  in  England 
he  gave  up  all  and  returned  in  summary  fashion. 
Trench  about  this  time  came  back  from  a  period  of 
foreign  travel,  his  mind  also  turned  towards  the 
Church  ;  but  as  they  were  gravely  laying  their  plans 
they  were  both  lured  by  Sterhng  into  the  Spanish 
business.  And  into  this  they  entered  heart  and  soul, 
with  all  the  fearless  enthusiasm  which  characterized 
them  both.  Trench  convinced  by  his  friends  said  and 
beheved  that  ''  Spain  had  need  of  him  and  the  '  soldier- 
priest,'  "  and  away  they  crept  from  England,  certain 


170        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

that  they  were  about  to  change  the  destinies  of  Spain 
and  half  expecting  to  be  hanged  for  doing  it. 

Before  they  went,  though,  they  decided,  if  they 
returned  ahve,  they  would  go  "  back  to  Trinity  "  and 
attend  Divinity  Lectures  there.  Trench  made  a  stay 
of  many  months  in  Spain,  but  when  he  saw  the  hope- 
lessness of  the  "  cause "  did  not  think  it  wise  to 
stay  and  struggle  against  the  impossible,  so  returned 
to  his  anxious  friends.  But  Kemble  refused  to  accom- 
pany him.  He  insisted  upon  staying  to  "  see  the  end." 
His  sister  Fanny  says — "  John's  heart  failed  him  at 
the  thought  of  forsaking  Torrijos,  and  there  were 
rumours  at  one  time  in  England  that  he  had  been 
caught  and  was  to  be  tried  for  his  life."  Every  one 
spoke  admiringly  of  his  extraordinary  pluck  ;  and 
calm-eyed,  calm-minded  Trench,  who  saw  and  knew 
the  rough  and  smooth  of  all  of  them,  said  of  him, 
"  Kindhness  is  the  pervading  hfe  of  his  character, 
and  what  renders  genial  his  knowledge,  his  hospitality 
and  his  many  admirable  qualities."  But  the  Spanish 
Conspiracy  dragged  its  course  along  many  weary 
months,  during  which  nothing  occurred  to  encourage, 
while  innumerable  impediments  arranged  themselves 
in  an  inflexible  barrier  about  it — and  finally  even 
Kemble  was  persuaded  reluctantly  to  return. 

He  began  now  to  throw  himself  more  earnestly 
into  philology  and  rather  to  retreat  somewhat  from  the 
idea  of  the  Church,  though  he  attended  some  theo- 
logical lectures. 

One  of  his  irreverent  friends  used  to  tell  a  story  at 


JOHN    MITCHELL    KEMBLE  171 

Cambridge  concerning   Kemble  and  this  expedition, 
which  ran  as  follows — 

*'  When  Jacky  Kemble  returned  from  the  Torrijos 
affair  in  Spain,  to  College,  he  had  a  story  of  adventure 
which  had  three  versions.  In  the  first,  say  in  the  stage 
of  friendly  confidence,  he  would  sa}^ — '  I  once  strayed 
beyond  our  lines  alone  and  unarmed  and  suddenly 
came  upon  fifteen  Spanish  Grenadiers,  who  were  closing 
round  me,  when  I  took  to  my  heels,  and  though  pursued 
by  a  few  shots,  escaped  with  my  life  and  unharmed.' 
Somewhat  later  the  version  began  in  the  same  way  as 
the  first,  but  proceeded — *  I  disarmed  them — most 
of  'em — wounded  several — and  the  rest  fled,  with  the 
Devil  take  the  hindmost.'  The  third,  or  three  o'clock 
in  the  morning  version,  commenced  like  the  others, 
but  continued — '  they  fell  at  my  feet  to  a  man  and 
implored  mercy.'      '  Well,  what  did  you  do,  Jacky  ? 

did  you  let  them  go  ?  '     '  No,  by  G ,  I  slew  them 

all !  '  " 

There  was  for  a  long  time  so  much  of  the  conspirator 
left  in  John  Kemble  that  often  in  Fitzgerald's  rooms 
— Thackeray  present,  with  whom  he  was  always  close 
friends  at  College — he  would  with  fervour  sing  the 
revolutionary  song,  which  he  had  probably  carolled 
often  in  Gibraltar,  "  Si  un  Elio  conspiro  allero." 

He  published  Beowulf  in  1833,  and  was  upon  that 
made  lecturer  of  Anglo-Saxon  to  the  University.  All 
rejoiced  exceedingly  at  this  signal  success,  and 
especially  Arthur  Hallam,  who  was  enchanted  to  find 
Kemble  spoken  of  in  the  highest  terms  as  one  of  "  our 
best    Anglo-Saxon    scholars    for    real    learning    and 


172        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

capacity  of  his  subject."  In  sending  Beowulf  to 
Tennyson,  Kemble  said  to  him — "  I  love  you  heartily 
and  wish  you  were  with  us.  I  wish  you  could  come 
and  dine  with  the  *  Apostles  '  on  Monday  next.  I 
am  not  sure  that  Donne  and  Trench  will  not  be  with 
us.  .  .  .  Are  there  no  Gardener's  Grand-daughters  ?  " 
And  he  wrote  to  Trench — 

"  Alfred  Tennyson  is  about  to  give  the  world  a 
volume  of  stupendous  poems,  the  lowest  toned  of 
which  is  strung  higher  than  the  highest  of  his  former 
volumes.  He  has  been  in  London  for  some  time,  and  a 
happy  time  it  was  :  a  happy  time  and  a  holy  time,  for 
it  is  the  mighty  privilege  of  such  men  to  spread  their 
own  glory  around  them.  .  .  .  We  had  a  fine  re-union 
of  choice  spirits  of  an  evening  then  :  Hallam,  Spedding 
and  his  brother,  the  two  Heaths,  and  Merivale — the 
kindest  hearted  and  one  of  the  mildest  of  scoffers." 


While  Trench,  now  a  curate,  wrote  to  him  about 
this  time — 

"  My  dear  Kemble, — 

"  I  sometimes  hear  in  a  roundabout  way  concerning 
you,  but  from  yourself  never.  Donne  tells  me  that 
you  sometimes  write  to  him — and  therefore  I  will  not 
give  you  up.  I  suppose  you  say  in  your  heart  '  They 
hate  us  youth  '  ;  however  it  is  not  so.  Could  you 
not  come  and  pay  us  a  visit  here  the  end  of  this  week 
or  the  beginning  of  next.  The  ensuing  week  to  that 
I  am  going,  D.V.,  to  pay  Donne  a  short  visit,  and  per- 
haps shall  move  like  a  Patriarch  with  my  wife  and 
little  one,  though  I  cannot  tarry  many  days.  You 
probably  are  not  aware  of  the  alteration  of  our  plans 


JOHN    MITCHELL    KEMBLE  173 

since  last  I  saw  you.  Mr.  Rose's  health  will  not  enable 
him  to  remain  here,  as  he  finds  the  climate  to  dis- 
agree with  him  more  than  that  of  any  other  place — he 
has  therefore  exchanged  this  living  for  a  much  smaller 
one,  where  he  will  not  need  my  assistance.  We  pro- 
bably shall  find  ourselves  free  at  the  end  of  next 
month. 

''  I  cannot  but  regret  the  prospect  of  my  connexion 
with  one  who  is  both  a  Christian,  a  scholar,  and  a  gentle- 
man being  dissolved,  though  it  is  not  so  much  a  matter 
of  regret  to  leave  this  part  of  England.  It  is  to  me 
sadly  out  of  the  way  :  has  little  of  natural  beauty  to 
recommend  it,  and  except  that  one  may  here  as  well 
as  in  another  place  serve  one's  generation,  by  the  will 
of  God,  I  would  not  have  chosen  it  at  the  first.  I 
hope  you  have  some  fair  prospect  of  a  curacy,  and  shall 
be  glad  to  see  you  fairly  estabhshed  among  your  own 
people — you  will  soon  find  yourself  grow  attached  to 
them  and  they  to  you,  so  that  a  parting  even  after  a 
few  months'  residence  among  them,  would  be  suffi- 
ciently grievous.  I  am  sure  that  I  find  it  so  here, 
and  have  great  heaviness  in  my  heart  to  think  that  I 
shall  see  their  faces  no  more.  At  this  moment,  too, 
one  begins  to  think  of  all  the  shortcomings,  of  how 
much  more  one  might  have  done,  if  one  had  given  up 
himself  more  to  the  work  and  less  to  the  indulgence 
of  the  body  or  the  mind — which  last  is  more  likely  to  be 
both  your  and  my  temptation.  I  am  sure  if  we  take 
these  things  in  hand,  we  shall  never  find  much 
peace  or  satisfaction  of  conscience  except  in  giving 
ourselves  wholly  to  them. 

"  The  responsibility  of  a  minister's  office,  even 
though  one  may  have  faced  and  contemplated  it  from 
the  first,  grows  mightily  upon  one. 

"  I  forgot   to  tell   you  that  I  cannot  give  you  a 


174        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

bed,  but  there  is  a  Hostel  neighbouring.    I  make  no 
apologies  for  this  apparent  inhospitality. 

"Yours  affectionately, 

"  R.  C.  Trench." 

But  there  was  no  curacy  for  Kemble.  He  now,  to 
the  distress  of  his  family,  gave  up  all  idea  of  Holy 
Orders.  His  sister  Fanny  complaining  of  this  change 
of  plan,  says — 

' '  This  romantic  expedition ' '  (with  Torrij  os)  "  cancelled 
all  his  purposes  and  prospects  of  entering  the  Church, 
and  Alfred  Tennyson's  fine  sonnet  addressed  to  him 
when  he  first  determined  to  dedicate  himself  to  the 
service  of  the  temple  is  all  that  bears  witness  to 
that  short-lived  consecration  :  it  was  poetry  but  not 
prophecy." 

When  Kemble  married,  which  he  did  early,  Donne 
said  to  Blakesley :  "  I  did  look  for  him  never  to  marry, 
but  the  shock  of  surprise  was  much  milder  than  if  it 
had  been  told  me  that  Spedding  had  sacrificed  himself 
to  the  good  of  posterity." 

But  he  married  and  settled  down  to  a  life  of  study. 
He  did  a  good  deal  of  profound  work,  and  amongst 
other  things  edited  the  British  and  Foreign  Review. 
We  find  Trench  saying  to  him — 

"  I  was  very  sorry  to  miss  seeing  you  when  I  called 
last  month.  I  am  now  in  town  but  for  a  single  day, 
and  cannot  devise  a  time  for  getting  to  you,  but  hope 
much  another  time  to  be  more  fortunate.  Donne  told 
me  that  I  might  send  the  accompanying  little  parcel 
for  him  to  your  house,  and  that  there  are  packets 
passing  between  you  and  him  which  would  give  it  an 


JOHN    MITCHELL    KEMBLE  175 

opportunity  of  being  forwarded  to  Mattishall  without 
expense. 

"  Would  you  be  inclined  to  have  an  article  in  your 
Review  from  Maurice  on  the  present  condition  of 
Theology  in  England  ?  It  would  of  course  take  in — 
indeed  have  main  reference  to — the  great  controver- 
sies now  stirring.  You  know  as  well  as  I  do  the 
wisdom  and  value  of  all  things  coming  from  Maurice — 
whether  it  would  suit  you  is  of  course  another  matter 
into  which  I  do  not  enter  ;  but  if  you  think  it  would, 
his  address  is  Guy's  Hospital,  otherwise  you  might 
say  nothing  about  it." 

The  above  is  an  example  of  the  system  of  friendly 
agency  which  prevailed  amongst  the  "  Apostles.'' 
It  was  a  business  quite  unique  in  its  way,  and  al- 
most incomprehensible  ;  for  no  doubt  Kemble  would 
have  taken  Maurice's  work  from  Maurice,  just  as 
willingly  as  Moxon  would  have  taken  Tennyson's 
poems    from  Tennyson. 

Kemble  and  Donne  (whose  favourite  study  was 
history)  seem  sometimes  to  have  relaxed  their  minds 
by  sending  each  other  full  descriptions  of  the  work 
they  were  engaged  upon.  These  accounts,  in  lighter 
guise  than  the  same  material  presented  when 
given  to  the  world,  are  of  singular  interest,  and  the 
following  is  a  happy  example  of  this  sort  of  confi- 
dence : — 

"  My  dear  Donne, — 

'*  I  should  have  written  to  you  long  ago,  but  have 
been  harassed  out  of  all  patience  and  activity  by  my 
wife's  illness  and  other  plagues,  now  happily  abated. 


176        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "  APOSTLES  " 

I  am  greatly  flattered  by  your  opinion  of  my  Preface 
to  Codex  Diplomaticus  :  I  confess  I  think  it  a  satis- 
factory piece  of  work,  and  you  will  comprehend  me 
when  I  say  that  it  is  pregnant  with  at  least  ten  times 
what  it  expresses.  You  will  also,  I  am  sure,  under- 
stand and  appreciate  the  tone  of  decision  and  authority 
adopted  in  it,  and  which  was  assumed  intentionally, 
and  as  it  appears  from  its  effects  successfully  :  in  that 
I  did  not  choose  to  give  the  established  hiimhugs  even 
the  chance  of  a  doubtful  expression.  Grimm  and 
the  Germans  are  high  in  its  praise,  and  I  owe  it  another 
diploma  or  two,  concerning  which  I  care  little  enough. 
The  least  important  part,  viz.  the  upsetting  all  the  old 
chronology,  will  of  course  attract  most  attention  : 
but  the  nuts  to  crack,  and  the  kernels  to  find,  lie  else- 
where. I  send  you  another  and  lighter  production  : 
put  it  in  your  bookcase  ;  Schmeller's  name  is  on  it, 
but  that  signifies  not.  It  is  my  last  copy,  and 
Schmeller  may  read  it  in  the  ArchcBologia,  which  you 
will  not.  You  will  think  I  have  treated  Magnusen  and 
others  harshly,  but  be  content,  they  have  only  got 
their  deserts,  Magnusen  being  not  only  a  Quack  but  a 
Rogue,  that  is  a  Quack  conscious.  James  Grimm,  who 
is  not  only  the  learnedest,  but  the  gentlest  of  men, 
says  I  have  served  M.  right. 

"  I  have  made  my  cottage  the  prettiest  thing  in  this 
part  of  the  country,  having  built  myself  a  whole  wing, 
i.e.  a  dining-room,  sixteen  feet  by  eighteen,  a  hall  with 
winding  staircase,  a  good  kitchen,  one  large  bedroom 
sixteen  feet  square,  two  small  spare  rooms,  and  a 
nursery  bedroom.  I  have  also  raised  the  roof  of  the 
old  cottage.  So  now  I  keep  a  room  for  you,  where  I 
trust  we  shall  have  many  a  crack  over  the  iniquities 
of  mankind  in  general,  and  the  virtues  of  ourselves 
and  friends    in  particular.     I  wish  I  could    persuade 


JOHN    MITCHELL    KEMBLE  177 

you  to  come  and  see  us  in  September.  You  do  not 
shoot,  nor  do  I  ;  but  we  could  find  something  to 
amuse  us  nevertheless,  and  now  I  have  my  books 
about  me  I  am  an  emperor  again.  I  do  not  propose 
to  give  you  the  rheumatism  by  putting  you  into  a 
new  room,  for  during  the  progress  of  building  I  rent  a 
house  a  stone's  throw  from  my  own.  Vipan  spent  a 
few  days  with  me,  and  went  away  more  than  half 
persuaded  to  come  home  and  settle  in  Surrey,  which 
he  says  is  the  most  livable  part  of  England  he  has  seen 
yet.  Only  my  wife  hinted  that  a  mistress  to  a  house 
was  so  necessary  a  piece  of  furniture  as  to  be  almost 
indispensable,  whereupon  Vipan  flew  off  at  a  tangent 
and  went  to  Baden.  From  that  haunt  of  mad  dogs 
and  equally  mad  Englishmen  he  wrote  to  me  a  day 
or  two  ago,  fairly  charging  my  wife  with  frightening 
him  out  of  England.  Think  of  Connop  Thirlwall 
being  a  real  fullgrown  Bishop  after  all  !  It  is  the  most 
creditable  thing  Melbourne  has  yet  done,  and  is  likely 
to  be  a  '  heavy  blow,'  etc.,  to  that  Goliath  of  Gath, 
Exeter  Philpots.  Melbourne  set  down  a  Commission 
to  investigate  Thirlwall' s  Introduction  to  ScheHer- 
macher,  and  smell  out  Heterodoxy.  The  Bishop  of 
Chichester  and  Ripon,  (?)  who  were  charged  with  this 
role  de  Smell-fungus,  having  reported  favourably,  the 
Archbishop  was  asked  if  he  had  any  objection.  He 
hummed  and  hawed  a  good  deal,  but  finding  himself 
out-Bishoped,  was  fain  to  make  the  best  face  he  could 
and  gulped  the  pill.  If  one  part  of  this  transaction 
be  better  than  another  it  is  that  the  heads  of 
our  Spiritual  Pastors  and  Masters  have  declared 
that  to  conduct  Mythological  Investigations  after  a 
scientific  fashion  is  no  longer  Heresy.  Vcb,  Vcb 
Vohis  PhariscBi  &c.,  &c.  How  are  the  parsons  be- 
Bishoped  !  !  !  Charles  Fellows  has  discovered  ten 
12— (2318) 


178        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

new  (or  rather  old)  cities  in  Lycia  :  he  has  also  found 
several  bi-lingual  Lycian  inscriptions,  furnishing  us 
with  a  new  language  and  a  good  deal  of  new  History. 
Oxford  Miiller  has,  in  consequence,  considerably 
modified  his  views  respecting  the  Dorians.  I  should 
say  that  Philology  on  a  large  scale  was  rising  rapidly 
in  this  costermonger  age  of  ours.  Thorpe  has  just 
published  a  noble  book,  The  Anglo-Saxon  Codes  ;  taken 
together  with  the  Codex  Diplomaticus ,  it  will  furnish 
the  oldest,  completest,  and  most  thoroughly  national 
Copus  Juris  of  the  whole  Teutonic  family.  I  am 
labouring  in  my  vocation,  that  is  getting  on  with  my 
Anglo-Saxon  Lexicon,  which,  if  I  complete  my  plan, 
will  certainly  be  a  book  of  some  importance :  but  Ars 
longa,  Vita  brevis  !  I  aim  at  something  rather  more 
philosophical  than  the  host  of  word-books,  and  I  know 
that  I  cannot  execute  about  a  tithe  of  what  I  should 
like  to  do  ;  but  then  as  yet  no  one  else  can,  so  I  say 
Est  quoddam  prodire  tenus,  si  non  datur  ultra  !  In 
the  philosophy  of  acting  up  to  which  doctrine  I  think 
you  will  fully  concur  with  me,  and  so  I  commend  you  to 
God,  &c.  .  .  .  When  the  root  verb  is  not  found  yet,  it 
will  be  given  hypothetically  in  italics.  What  say 
you  to  this  ?  Exemp.  gratia.  Writan,  wrat.  writon. 
Writen,  ccBdere,  sculpere,  scrivere.  Examples  of  the 
three  uses.  Deriv.  Wret.  (n)  sculptura,  and  scabies  ? 
Comp.  For  writan  condemnare,  &c.  This  will  give 
you  specimens  of  what  I  mean.  Of  course  the  de- 
rivatives and  composites  are  numerous.  You  will 
see  by  the  Httle  Abhandlung  on  the  Runes,  how  writan 
came  by  its  third  signification.  In  old  languages  like 
Anglo-Saxon,  the  metaphorical  uses  of  language  have 
not  overlaid  the  original  system  and  vital  vigour,  and 
the  metaphysics  are  readily  comprehended.  More- 
over,  '  Language  in  its  spontaneous  period  is  sensuous,' 


JOHN    MITCHELL    KEMBLE  179 

which  golden  law  write  up  in  any  Etymological  Dic- 
tionary you  possess.  When  a  tongue  becomes  dead 
Uke  the  Enghsh  of  our  own  day,  Society  keeps  the  key 
of  its  cofhn  !  The  errors  which  I  shall  commit  will  be 
innumerable,  but  still  I  think  the  experiment  worth 
a  trial,  and  as  I  said  before,  if  I  do  not  make  it  no  one 
else  will ;  and  who  is  to  assure  me  that  fifty  years  hence 
there  will  be  any  one  more  inclined  or  more  capable 
than  myself  ?  For  unhappily  Thorpe  and  myself  are 
still  almost  alone  in  our  work  :  many  begin,  but  few 
finish ;  and  the  mass  of  readers  are  not  thinkers  even 
tho'  Anglo-Saxon  be  their  subject. 

"  Miss  Adelaide  has  been  most  triumphantly 
received  at  Naples,  and  my  father,  who  still  suffers, 
means  to  return  with  her  early  in  1841.  Henry  is 
in  Galway,  hourly  expecting  his  Captain's  Commis- 
sion. 

"  Farewell,  God  bless  you,  and  beheve  me, 
"  Yours  ever  affectionately, 

"  John  M.  Kemble." 

While  Maurice,  who  can  have  had  little  in  common 
with  his  old  friend  Kemble,  seemed  glad  to  be  able  to 
secure  him  as  a  critic. 

"  My  Dear  Kemble, — 

"  I  have  been  much  disappointed  in  not  catching  you 
at  home  these  two  or  three  times  that  I  have  called. 

"  I  have  fully  intended  to  avail  myself  of  your  kind 
invitation  to  come  at  any  time,  several  particular 
times,  but  at  all  these  times  have  been  prevented. 
However,  I  still  hope  that  we  may  not  find  five  and  a 
half  miles  an  absolutely  impassable  barrier  to  inter- 
course. 

"  Either  in  your  private  or  public  capacity  I  shall 


i8o        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

have  united  to  do  myself  the  pleasure  of  asking  your 
acceptance  of  this  volume,  but  as  my  publishers 
regard  you  in  the  august  and  awful  light  of  a  Reviewer, 
I  must  no  further  interfere  than  to  say  that  any 
words  which  you  may  find  it  impossible  to  say  (in  any 
note  or  parenthesis)  in  praise  or  abuse  of  what  is  here 
written,  will  be  highly  acceptable  to  them  and  received 
by  me  as  an  additional  token  of  the  kindness  and 
friendship  of  which  in  former  days  I  received  so  many 
proofs. 

"  Fro    ,  Believe  me  my  dear  Kemble, 
"  Very  sincerely  yours, 

"  F.  Maurice." 

Through  his  father's  influence  Kemble  was  appointed 
by  the  Lord  Chamberlain,  to  succeed  him  in  the  ofhce  of 
Licenser  of  Plays,  which  post  he  held  from  1840  and  filled 
most  capably,  till  his  death  in  1857  ;  but  from  that 
period  he  lived  most  of  his  time  at  Addlestone,  deep  in 
old  documents  from  which  he  would  emerge  sometimes 
to  join  in  some  such  festivities  as  the  following — 

"  Dear  Brookfield, — 

**  How  are  your  Bishop  and  your  heart's  cockles  in- 
clined towards  a  run  down  into  Hertfordshire  on  Friday 
next  ? 

"  Brief,  it  is  the  installation  as  Provincial  Grand 
Master  of  WilHam  Stuart  of  Aldenham  Abbey  (son  of 
the  late  Primate  of  Ireland)  and  a  w^orthy  brother  in 
many  more  senses  than  the  sense  '  usual  among 
Masons,'  which  is  not  always  commonsense. 

"  The  place  is  Watford,  one  hour  from  London  by 
Birmingham  rail  :  the  work  magnificent,  the  dinner, 
for  a  province,  comme  il  faut,  the  company  excellent. 


JOHN    MITCHELL    KEMBLE  i8i 

If  you  will  be  my  guest,  I  will  ensure  you  a  jolly 
evening  and  a  hearty  welcome.  You  can  return  early 
the  next  morning  or  late  the  same  night,  and  you  meet 
some  of  the  best  of  our  Surreyians  and  some  of  the 
first  country  gentlemen  of  Hertfordshire. 

"  I  am  just  returned  from  old  Trinity,  where  I  and 
Mrs.  J.  M.  K.  spent  a  fortnight.  The  old  place  is 
utterly  gone  to  the  dogs.  Mr.  W. — is  more  intolerable 
than  anything  that  has  ever  been  reported  of  him  :  I 
never  saw  so  melancholy  and  mischievous  a  spectacle. 
As  for  the  young  'uns  they  are  a  set  of  milksops.  Con- 
ceive my  being  absolutely  told  that  men  did  not 
believe  that  I  used  to  get  out  under  the  Library  thro' 
the  bars  !  As  if  I  was  the  only  man  who  could  take  a 
flying  jump  through  them,  armed  cap-and-gown,  in 
our  time.  They  treated  it  as  a  myth.  I  got  them  up 
three  combination  rooms  while  there — small  ones  ! — 
and  was  thanked  :  they  had  not  had  such  luck  for 
months.  I  made  delicate  inquiries  about  milk-punch  : 
the  receipt  it  seems  is  lost,  but  it  was  suggested  that 
milk  and  water  abounded — if  that  would  do  as  well. 
Tho'  a  member  of  many  scientific  associations,  I  thought 
the  experiment  too  venturous.  In  short,  there  is  but 
one  expressive  word  for  the  whole  race,  which  I  leave 
to  your  own  discreet  imagination  to  supply.  It  is  a 
great  pity.  One  wants  men  to  cultivate  something 
more  than  flowers  :  unhappily  at  present  Mr.  VVidiall 
with  his  geraniums  drives  a  better  trade  than  Mr. 
Hardman  used  with  other  commodities.  Some  indeed 
of  the  old  set — rari  nantes  in  gurgite  vasto — console 
themselves  with  sohtary  smoke  ;  and  gave  me  some 
capital  dinners.  But  they  seemed  half  afraid  of 
their  own  hospitahty.  Can  you  imagine  the  re-appear- 
ance of  the  sweating  sickness,  or  the  great  fire  of 
London  ?     How  these  things  would  astonish  us  !    Well 


i82        THE    CAMBRIDGE    *' APOSTLES  " 

don't  go  down  to  Cambridge,  or  you  certainly  will  '  go 
home  '  before  '  morning  '  from  any  undergraduate's 
party  you  may  honour  with  your  presence.  If  the 
fellows  were  only  manly  thereby,  I  should  honour 
them,  but  I  hardly  saw  a  broad  shouldered  chap  in 
the  place.  It  was  full  of  well-dressed,  decorous 
mediocrity  without  great  virtue  and,  I  dare  say,  with- 
out great  vice.  But  milksops  !  milksops  !  Eheu  !  ! ! 
Of  course  such  real  sound  hearts  as  Merivale,  Thomp- 
son and  Co.  are  exceptions  :  but  they  belong  to  us — 
not  to  the  later  dynasty  !  Sedgwick  growled  awfully 
and  let  out  his  full  heart  to  me  in  one  or  two  walks  on 
the  Trumpington  and  Huntingdon  roads,  and  Romilly 
sneezed  in  a  gentlemanly  way,  as  he  used.  But  I 
asked  of  echo,  where  were  Thirlwall,  Greenwood,  jolly 
old,  Musgrave,  good  old  Peacock,  Fisher,  Barnes  ? — 
even  poor  Hyman — and  echo  answered  '  Where  ?  ' — 
it  is  quite  right  they  should  be — some  Bishops,  others 
Deans  !     But  they  are  not  at  Trinity  !  " 


Evidently  there  was  in  those  days  as  there  is  in 
later  times  the  same  resentment  by  old  Cantabrigians 
at  the  intrusion  of  a  later  generation  upon  their  former 
haunts  which  they  look  upon  as  private  property, 
and  a  consequent  scorn  and  contempt  for  the  usurpers. 

And  in  another  letter  he  says  to  Brookfield — 

"  Dear  Parson,— 

''  Last  year  you  had  sinners  to  save,  and  sinners  to 
damn  on  the  part  of  your  Bishop.  By  Thursday  in 
Easter  week,  this  year,  I  hope  such  clerical  employ- 
ments will  be'bver,  and  that  you  will  be  able  to  come 
down  to  me  on  the  20th  April  (i.e.  Thursday)  to  stay 


JOHN    MITCHELL    KEMBLE  183 

or  go,  as  you  please.  Did  I  tell  you  that  I  could  give 
you  a  bed  ?  li  not,  smite  me  on  the  orthodox  cheek  ! 
"  But  if  you  can  come  earHer  and  will  bring  Mrs. 
Brookfield  with  you,  she  and  the  other  widows  on 
this  awful  occasion  can  make  common  cause,  and 
when  we  dine  in  Lodge,  they  can  dine  in  company 
chez  noi  and  rail  at  us.  We  shall  meet  for  Chapter 
early  in  the  day  ;  for  Lodge  about  three  ;  for  dinner  at 
six,  or  half -past  five.  I  can  lend  you  a  badge,  and  you 
will  want  no  more  masonry  than  your  own  good  feel- 
ing. You  will  meet  gentlemen,  good  men,  good  masons, 
and  jolly  good  fellows.     Need  I  say  more  ? 

"  Certainly  :  Mrs.  John  Kemble,  a  lady  whom  I 
once  had  the  honour  to  introduce  to  you,  had  a  great 
desire  not  only  to  renew  her  acquaintance  with  you, 
but  to  welcome  your  wife  ;  and  will  be  most  happy  if 
you  can  manage  to  spend  a  few  days  here  and  breathe 
a  httle  of  God's  air,  which  never  blows  in  London. 
You  may  go  to  your  duty  ;  why  should  not  Mrs. 
Brookfield  stay  here  for  a  few  days  for  her  pleasure  ? 
A  country  gentleman's  house  is  always  open.  On 
looking  over  my  scrawl  I  perceive  that  the  Calli- 
graphists  would  be  puzzled,  but  I  also  have  to  add 
that  between  the  Queen  and  the  British  and  Foreign  and 
the  N.  W.  Provl.  Grand  Master  of  Surrey,  I  have 
written  this  day  exactly  three  hundred  and  sixty  five 
letters,  all  of  six  foolscap  sheets,  and  my  hand  is 
becoming  a  humbug.  So  leaving  you  to  decide  when 
and  how  you  will  come  (only  let  me  know  a  day  before, 
that  I  may  fetch  you  and  baggage  from  Weybridge). 
We  shall  mingle  dignity  with  gravity,  seriis  jocum,  as 
becomes  us,  we  are  the  jokers,  you  the  serious.  Will 
you  come  ? 

I  remain  (in  ample  form) 

"  Yours  fraternally, 

"  John  M.  Kemble." 


i84        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

Concerning  the  installing  of  the  Prince  Consort  as 
Chancellor  of  Cambridge,  he  wrote — 

"  Dear  W.  H.  B.— 

**  You  would  very  greatly  oblige  a  poor  man,  who  is 
sometimes  stumpt,  as  the  saying  is,  for  a  song,  by 
sending  him  one  of  yours  ;  and  in  truth,  you  made  me 
a  sort  of  promise  of  *  Cannikin  ' .  I  do  not  ask  for 
more  than  the  usufruct,  saving  all  rights  of  the  superior 
lord  and  owner  of  the  same,  whenever  he  shall  think 
fit  to  resume  his  proprietorship.  I  am  become  a  kind 
of  amphibious  animal,  rejoicing  by  turns  in  the  mud  of 
London,  and  the  mists  of  Addlestone  ;  on  the  latter  I 
can  fatten  hke  wood-cocks  ;  but  I  know  nothing  that 
typifies  the  effects  of  the  former  save  swine — eels 
perhaps.  So  on  the  whole,  if  you  please,  let  it  be 
understood  that  when  in  London  I  am,  and  am  to  be 
considered,  a  Pig.  Can  we  tempt  you  out  to  brown  and 
red  tines,  falling  leaves  and  a  smell  of  fungus — '  odours 
vague  that  haunt  the  year's  decay '  as  a  dim  lushy, 
smokified  poet  singeth  ? 

"  Will  the  loving-cup  of  the  Lodge  of  St.  George, 
Chertsey,  tempt  you  out  of  residence  for  a  few  hours  ? 
It  will  be  circulating  with  tolerable  rapidity  about 
nine  o'clock  on  Thursday,  November  i6th,  under  the 
auspices  of  your  poor  friend  and  most  unworthy  W.  M. 
Finally,  is  there  anything  in  Autumn,  Masonry  or 
Addlestone  that  will  make  you  pitch  your  Bishop  and 
cure  of  souls  to  Apollyon  for  a  season  ?  Is  not  your 
pulpit  cold,  your  vestry  paved  with  stone,  your  church 
too  little  (or  too  much)  heated  ?  Have  you  not  a 
catarrhal  affection  for  which  Addlestone  is  a  specific, 
Chapelfields  an  undoubted  cure  ?  Is  there  not  balm 
in  Gilead  ?  Is  there  not  wine  in  the  bottle  ?  Is  there  not 
a  bed  in  the  spare  room,  and  a  coach  and  several  trains 


JOHN    MITCHELL    KEMBLE  185 

in  the  morning  ?  I  pause  for  a  reply.  James  Sped- 
ding  seems  muddy  too  :  he  writes  from  Mire-hall  or 
Mirehouse  or  some  such  other  boggy  mansion  in  Cum- 
berland ;  he  talks  of  returning  to  town  to  continue 
his  researches  at  the  British  Museum — very  muddy 
this,  indeed  !  All  the  rest  of  the  world  is  so  swamped 
in  mud  that  one  never  even  hears  of  it.  In  the  midst 
of  dull  plays,  refractory  Managers,  fastidious  Lord 
Chamberlains  and  slippery  diplomatic  doings  at  home 
and  abroad,  I  feel  a  yearning  after  a  good  draught  out 
of  old  Cambridge  times,  to  clear  my  head  and  give 
a  filhp  to  my  heart  in  'these  cur-days  of  ours.  So 
Lonsdale  is  to  be  the  new  Bishop  ?  What  will 
Whewell  say  ?  It  is  supposed  he  did  say — *  Madam, 
I  don't  mean  to  hint  anything  about  a  remuneration 
or  a  gratification  for  all  the  bother  you've  given  us 
here  :  but  I  think  it  right  to  say  that  these  are  very 
hard  times,  and  Mrs.  Whewell  and  I  forsee  that  we  shall 
have  a  very  large  lamily,  and  I've  been  at  a  great 
deal  of  trouble  for  you  and  the  Prince,  and  as  I  said 
before  I  don't  mean  to  ask  for  anything,  but  if  you're 
inclined  to  do  the  thing  handsomely,  there's  a  bishop- 
rick  and  one  or  two  deaneries  vacant,  and  .    .    . 

"  The  answer  is  not  on  record,  but  though  Trench, 
Winter,  and  Lonsdale  were  all  named,  I  looked  in  vain 
for  the  euphonious  nomenclature  of  Dr.  William  W — ! 

"  Can  you  imagine  a  man  reduced  to  write  all  this 
trash,  merely  by  way  of  varying  the  amusement  of 
looking  at  the  rain  on  the  leads,  from  a  back  third 
pair  in  Bruton  Street  ?  So  it  is,  and  villainously 
dull,  to  say  nothing  of  being  dressed  like  a  gentleman 
for  fear  of  the  sudden  intrusion  of  a  Manager.  Pity 
me.  Pity  me  :  if  this  lasts  long  I  shall  take  to  writing 
domestic  tragedies  in  the  syncretic  manner,  which  is 
the  last  stage  of  mud  and  dullness. 


i86        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

"  Make  my  kind  remembrances  to  the  partner  of 
your  joys  and  sorrows,  and  believe  me, 

"  Yours  very  Fraternally,  Masonically, 
"  Apostolically,    Diabolically, 

"  John  M.  Kemble." 

Of  Kemble' s  life-work,  there  is  but  one  opinion.  Of 
Anglo-Saxon  he  knew  more  than  any  other  student  of 
his  time,  for  he  had  as  well  as  their  information  a 
scientific  knowledge  of  his  subject.  He  took  infinite 
pains  with  his  work  and  his  accuracy  was  so  absolute 
that  all  that  he  passed  as  genuine  was  accepted  without 
question  or  doubt.  As  a  specimen  of  the  style  of  the 
English  of  his  writings — a  few  lines  from  his  valuable 
treatise  on  the  "  Supposed  Antiquity  of  Church 
Rates  "  will  suffice — 

"  The  first  person  who  brought  Christianity  into  this 
country  as  a  missionary  from  Pope  Gregory  of  Rome, 
was  St.  Augustine  :  he  found  the  people  of  England 
worshipping  Woden  and  Thunor  and  other  Gods,  and 
he  succeeded  in  converting  a  great  number  of  the  men 
of  Kent  from  heathenism.  .  .  .  We  have  still  the 
letters  which  Pope  Gregory  sent  to  St.  Augustine  and 
not  only  from  them  get  wisdom  and  piety,  but  from 
the  rules  of  conduct  which  they  laid  down,  these 
letters  were  held  in  affectionate  estimation  by  the 
primitive  English  Christians."  etc. 

He  had  too  much  of  the  student  in  him  to  fight  for 
the  conventions  :  and  as  time  went  on  absorbed  himself 
more  and  more  into  his  study.  "  A  brilliant  scholar, 
given  over  to  his  own  learning  and  deep  philosophiz- 
ing,"  as  his  sister  said,  he  never  competed  with  the 


JOHN    MITCHELL    KEMBLE  187 

world,  but  steadily  got  through  much  useful  work, 

work  which  was   admired  by  German   and  English 

savants  alike.  He  was  only  fifty  when  he  died. 

He  was  unduly  modest  with  regard  to  his  poetic  gifts 

although    they    were    highly   esteemed  by  his  fellow 

'^  apostles."     The  following  sonnet  was  one  of  their 

favourites : 

Might,  majesty  and  wisdom  were  the  dower 
That  man  inherited  :  why  has  he  striven 
To  cast  away  the  panoply  of  Heaven, 
Wilfully  crouching  in  the  world's  dark  power  ? 
Faith,  care  and  watchfulness  were  as  a  tower 
From  which  he  might  o'erlook  the  whirling  wave 
Of  hopes  and  fears  ;    a  rock  of  might  to  save 
The  shipwrecked  mariner  in  evil  hour ; 
And  these  he  hath  disdained.     Woe  is  me 
That,  God-endowed,  he  yet  should  bear  to  creep 
Along  with  noisome  creatures  of  the  deep. 
Sharing  the  boisterous  unrest  of  the  sea. 
Till  tumult  is  his  nature,  and  his  life 
Is  as  the  billows,  dashing  hate  and  strife. 


CHAPTER  IX 

HENRY   LUSHINGTON 

Enough  for  us  if  any  praise, 
And  you  above  the  rest, 
The  humours  of  a  solemn  phrase 
The  wisdom  of  a  jest 

(Joint  Compositions) 

Shadows  of  three  dead  men 
Walk'd  in  the  walks  with  me, 
Shadows  of  three  dead  men,  and  thou 
wast  one  of  the  three. 

(Tennyson) 

Henry  Lushington  was  the  youngest  of  this  set  of 
**  Apostles."  Like  most  of  them,  he  had  gained 
scholastic  distinction  at  an  unusually  early  age.  He 
came  from  Charterhouse,  where  he  had  been  head  of 
the  school  at  fifteen  years  old  and  where  he  had  laid 
the  foundations  of  lifelong  friendships  with  Thack- 
eray and  Venables.  He  was  only  seventeen  when  he 
came  up  to  Cambridge  in  1829,  and  he  immediately 
made  a  favourable  impression,  not  only  by  his  sweet- 
ness of  disposition  and  personal  charm  but  also  by  his 
singularly  attractive  appearance.  It  is  a  remarkable 
fact  that  all  these  intellectual  giants  were  endowed, 
not  only  with  prodigious  faculties,  but  with  extra- 
ordinary good  looks.  And  the  cleverest  appear  also 
to  have  been  the  handsomest. 


HENRY    LUSHINGTON  189 

At  the  end  of  his  third  term,  Lushington  had  proved 
himself,  in  College  examinations  and  in  all  that  he 
undertook,  so  far  ahead  of  all  the  men  of  his  year  that 
it  was  confidently  anticipated  that  the  highest  honours 
awaited  him.  Unfortunately,  his  health  became  deli- 
cate and  he  was  urged  to  take  a  little  relaxation.  This 
he  was  loth  to  do  and  he  continued  to  struggle  on  with 
his  studies  in  the  face  of  all  warnings — until  he  was 
finally  overcome  by  an  illness  which  necessitated  his 
leaving  Cambridge  for  two  whole  years.  This  was  at 
a  period  when  the  "  Apostles  "  were  at  their  brightest 
and  best  ;  and  Lushington's  grief  at  having  to  tear 
himself  from  the  joyous  companionship  of  these,  his 
dearest  friends,  was  more  than  all  their  sympathy  could 
assuage.  It  was  almost  as  sad  for  him  to  return  in 
1832  to  find  the  old  radiant  circle  broken  up — most  of 
its  lights  already  gone  down,  and  others  about  to  go. 

The  year  of  his  return,  and  again  the  following 
year,  he  took  the  Porson  Prize  for  Greek  Iambics.  In 
1834  he  graduated  as  Senior  Optime  with  a  first  class 
in  the  Classical  Tripos.  In  1836  he  was  elected  Fellow 
of  Trinity.  And  he  achieved  all  these  honours  with  no 
special  effort — for  he  was  too  much  of  an  invalid,  even 
after  his  two  years  of  complete  rest,  to  "  cram  "  or 
study  at  the  extra  pressure  which  most  young  men 
apply  on  the  eve  of  an  important  examination. 

He  first  displayed  his  great  faculty  for  composition 
in  essays  written  for  the"  Society  " — his  methods  were 
different  to  those  of  most  of  the  ''  Apostles,"  but  these 
notwithstanding  held  him  in  high  esteem  and  reckoned 


igo        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

him  a  remarkable  writer  and  fluent  speaker.  Francis 
Garden  once  wrote  about  Henry's  brother  and  incident- 
ally about  Henry  himself ,  "  The/  Apostles '  are  flourish- 
ing in  fine  style — I  had  the  pleasure  of  begetting  one 
the  other  day  in  the  person  of  the  younger  Lushington 
(brother  to  the  senior  medalHst  of  the  year  before  this). 
He  is  a  glorious  fellow,  and  I  feel  great  pleasure  in 
thinking  that  what  in  all  probabihty  has  been  my  last 
"  Apostohc  '  act  should  have  been  to  introduce  so 
excellent  an  acquisition  to  our  forces." 

During  the  last  part  of  his  College  career,  Henry 
Lushington  brought  out  a  spirited  pamphlet  upon 
Fellow  Commoners  and  Honorary  Degrees  — a  fine 
pronouncement  against  ''  an  unwarrantable  and  un- 
justifiable institution."  Venables  says,  that  "his 
common  sense  and  his  pride  as  a  gentleman  were 
revolted  by  the  spectacle  of  noblemen  and  cadets  of 
nobility  attired  in  a  gorgeous  livery,  courted  by  their 
academic  superiors,  and  taught  to  regard,  perhaps 
not  without  reason,  a  curtailment  of  their  studies  as 
a  reward  due  to  their  hereditary  merit."  This  was 
his  first  printed  work ;  it  was  widely  read  and  made 
a  considerable  impression  although  the  institution  he 
inveighed  against  as  utterly  inconsistent  with  the 
hberty  and  equality  of  University  Hfe,  was  not  entirely 
abolished  till  many  years  later.  In  1837  he  left 
Cambridge  and  entered  himself  at  the  Inner  Temple, 
and  was  called  to  the  Bar  in  1840  ;  but  he  scarcely 
ever  practised. 

It  is  impossible   to  conjecture  to  what   academic 


HENRY    LUSHINGTON  191 

heights  Lushington  might  not  have  soared,  had  he 
not  been  trammelled  all  his  Hfe  by  ill-health.  He  could 
not  lead  the  hfe  he  would  have  loved,  that  of  a  busy 
student,  active  in  the  acquisition  of  fresh  knowledge  and 
Uberal  in  its  diffusion  ;  he  could  only  contemplate  the 
industry  of  others  and  exercise  his  dehcate  hterary 
discrimination  in  courteous  criticism  and  generous 
appreciation. 

Lushington' s  greatest  intimate  was  undoubtedly 
Venables  ;  next  in  his  affections  came  probably  Tenny- 
son, whose  aching  heart  found  in  this  warm  friendship 
some  solace  in  its  mourning  for  his  lost  beloved  com- 
panion— 

Two  dead  men  have  I  known 

In  courtesy  like  to  thee  :  ^ 

Two  dead  men  have  I  loved 

With  a  love  that  will  ever  be  : 

These  two  dead  men  were  Arthur  Hallam  and  Henry 
Lushington,  and  the  charm  of  this  later  friend  was,  in 
the  poet's  eyes,  enhanced  by  his  exquisite  taste  in 
poetry.  Tennyson  admired  his  criticisms  so  much 
that  he  used  to  say  ''  that  of  all  the  critics  with  whom 
he  had  discussed  his  own  poems  Henry  Lushington 
was  the  most  suggestive."  For  one  of  the  most 
attractive  traits  in  Tennyson's  character  was  the 
naive  simphcity  with  which,  when  at  work,  he  would 
collect  suggestions  from  all  his  friends.  "  The  Prin- 
cess "  was  dedicated  to  Lushington,  and  his  home, 
with  its  "  broad  lawns  "  is  described  by  the  poet  in 
the  prologue  to  that  poem. 


192        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

The  connexion  between  the  Lushingtons  and  the 
Tennysons  was  very  close.  Park  House,  near  Maid- 
stone, contained  a  charming  group  of  bright  young 
people,  four  sisters  and  three  brothers,  all  of  whom 
loved  to  welcome  the  poet  and  his  relations  to  that 
home,  where 

higher  on  the  walls 
Betwixt  the  monstrous  horns  of  elk  and  deer 
Their  own  forefathers'  arms  and  armour  hung. 

And  although  at  that  time  the  Tractarian  move- 
ment was  agitating  the  great  minds  all  over  the 
country  and  stormy  discussion  disturbed  almost 
every  intellectual  gathering,  it  is  noteworthy  that 
with  the  gay  and  spiritual  circle  assembled  round  the 
Lushingtons'  table,  the  talk  was  all  of  poetry  and 
literature  and  of  their  youthful  exploits.  As  Tenny- 
son says : 

"  but  we  unworthies  told 
Of  College  :  he  had  climbed  across  the  spikes, 
And  he  had  squeezed  himself  betwixt  the  bars, 
And  he  had  breezed  the  Proctor's  dogs  :  and  one 
Discuss' d  his  tutor,  rough  to  common  men 
But  honeying  at  the  whisper  of  a  lord  ; 
And  one  the  Master,  as  a  rogue  in  grain 
Veneer'd  with  sanctimonious  theory." 

Edmund  Lushington,  Henry's  elder  brother  (after- 
wards Professor  of  Greek  at  Glasgow"),  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  students  of  his  day  and  to  whose 
brilliant  scholarship  Thackeray  makes  allusion  in 
The  Virginians,  by -and -by  married  the  sister  of 
the  poet,  Cecilia  Tennyson.  The  epithalamium  at 
the  end   of  the  In  Memoriam    is    in    celebration  of 


HENRY    LUSHINGTON  193 

this  event  and  not,  as  commonly  supposed,  to  com- 
memorate the  marriage  of  the  lady  formerly  betrothed 
to  Arthur  Hallam. 

Lushington's  essays  are  all  elegant  in  form  and 
solid  in  matter ;  in  those  which  concern  Italy 
there  is  perhaps  an  added  vigour  and  enthusiasm, 
while  his  Italian  translations  give  a  happy  and  inge- 
nious reproduction  of  the  Italian  characteristics  of  the 
originals.  He  sympathized  with  the  revolutionary 
poet  Giusti,  a  contemporary  of  the  "  Apostles,"  who 
wrote,  amongst  other  things,  his  ''  Memorie  di  Pisa,"  in 
which  he  incorporated  his  reminiscences  of  College  days. 
In  an  appreciation  of  this  poet  and  these  especial 
poems,  Lushington  says :  "  There  is  a  deep  truth  and 
tenderness  in  the  tone  in  which  Giusti  recalls  those 
four  happy  years  spent  without  care  ;  the  days,  the 
nights,  '  smoked  away  '  in  free  gladness,  in  laughter, 
in  uninterrupted  talk  ;  the  aspirations,  the  free,  open- 
hearted  converse,  all  the  delights  of  that  life,  whether 
at  Cambridge  or  at  Pisa,  which  comes  not  again." 

If  in  his  literary  habits  he  was  rather  the  reverse  of 
orderly,  his  intellect — Venablessays — "  was  thoroughly 
scholarhke,  even  mathematical  in  its  accuracy,  and 
promiscuous  knowledge  at  once  arranged  itself  into 
symmetrical  form  in  his  unfailing  memory."  His 
retention  was  amazing — he  knew  Carlyle's  French 
Revolution  by  heart,  and  it  was  supposed — both  in 
the  Lushington  as  well  as  in  the  Tennyson  family,  that 
if  '*  Alfred's  "  writings  had,  every  vestige  of  them,  been 
destroyed,   they   could   have   been   accurately   repro- 


194        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

duced  whole,  without  the  alteration  of  a  word,  from 
that  marvellous  garner.  Tennyson  himself  said  of 
him :  "  Others  may  find  a  fault  in  a  poem,  but  Harry 
finds  the  fault  and  tells  you  how  to  mend  it." 

Of  the  "  Joint  Compositions  "  produced  by  Lush- 
ington  and  Venables,  it  is  hardly  possible  to  distin- 
guish which  sentiment  or  which  thought  belongs  to 
each.  There  was  such  a  perfect  accord  between  these 
two  men  that  they  practically  thought  alike.  The 
poems  were  made  as  they  walked  or  rode  together — 
and  they  were  "  contented  with  our  own  appreciation 
of  their  correspondence  with  our  own  purpose." 

The  following  is  a  fair  specimen  of  their  work. 

But  doubtful  in  our  dazzling  prime, 
We  watched  the  struggle  of  the  time, 

The  war  of  new  and  old  ; 
We  loved  the  past  with  Tory  love, 
Yet  more  than  Radicals  we  strove 
j^  For  coming  years  of  gold 

When  rich  and  poor  in  mutual  trust 
Shall  know  each  other  and  be  just, 

Not  bound  by  laws  severe  : 
And  a  true  mother  commonwealth 
Lead  back  sick  children  unto  health 

With  love  and  gentle  fear. 

Lushington  was  one  of  those  who  watched  events ; 
he  did  not  meddle  with  them,  and  he  never  let  them 
agitate  him  unless  they  were  likely  to  become  a  menace 
to  the  country  ;  but  being  by  family  ties  and  affection 
connected  with  Indian  affairs,  he,  over  the  retreat 
from  Cabul  1841-2,  allowed  his  anxiety  and  distress 
seriously  to  affect  his  health.     He  afterwards  investi- 


HENRY    LUSHINGTON  195 

gated  the  matter,  and  became  convinced  that  all  had 
been  brought  about  under  instructions  from  home, 
and  that  those  who  followed  out  that  foolish  and 
flagitious  policy  did  so  because  they  could  not  recede 
from  it.  This  decision  caused  him  to  produce  a  book 
called  a  Great  Country's  Little  Wars,  which  work  was 
unfortunately  printed  too  late  to  do  him  or  Indian 
affairs  any  good  ;  but  anyone  interested  in  Afghanistan 
to-day  could  scarcely  do  better  than  study  that  eloquent 
and  engrossing  brochure.  It  was  supposed  to  have  been 
the  wisest  and  wittiest  pamphlet  ever  written  on  the 
Indian  Adminstration  System .  Of  the  Indian  Service  he 
ever  wrote  in  glowing  sanguine  terms  ;  he  applauded 
the  men  who  worked  there  and  encouraged  them 
and  praised  them  as  much  for  the  steady  work  which 
did  not  appear  as  for  brilhant  work  which  advertised 
itself  to  all  the  world.  When  his  brother,  an  Indian 
judge,  paid  him  a  visit  once,  he  said  :  "  I  at  first 
thought  he  looked  very  old,  having  the  recollection  of 
thirteen  years  back  wherewith  to  contrast  him.  Prob- 
ably if  one  could  place  in  the  glass,  side  by  side  with 
one's  own  belathered  face  of  to-morrow  morning,  the 
comparatively  smooth  and  youthful  cheeks  of  1831, 

one  should  see  at  least  an  equal  change  ;  but  it  is  well 

well  under  the  circumstances    of  the  case,  that  is 

that  the  spectre  of  one's  own  youth  does  not  walk 
through  Hfe  by  one's  side.  It  would  be  an  appro- 
priate antithesis  to  the  skeleton  of  the  Egyptians  a 
memento  equally  effective  and  not  less  painful.  The 
two  together,  one  on  each  side  of  one's  present  self 


196        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

would  visibly  complete  the  Trinity  of  Time,  '  quod 
fuit,  est,  et  erit,  the  trinodas  necessitas  '  which  includes 
us  all." 

He  took  an  eager  interest  in  every  subject,  and  even 
brought  to  the  question  of  the  gauges  (one  which 
much  agitated  our  grandfathers),  the  freshness  of  an 
original  mind.  Milnes  said  of  this  :  "  His  pamphlet 
on  the  Broad  Railway  gauge  is  a  powerful  argument, 
and  as  amusing  to  the  unprofessional  reader  as 
was  Bishop  Berkeley's  '  Essays  on  Tar- water  '  to  the 
general  pubhc  of  his  time." 

He  had  in  poHtics  a  leaning  towards  Liberal,  even 
Radical,  opinions  ;  he  enthusiastically  welcomed  the 
accomphshment  of  Catholic  Emancipation ;  he  ap- 
plauded the  French  Revolution  of  1830 ;  and  he 
approved  of  the  Reform  Bill  and  voted  for  the  grant  to 
Maynooth.  In  his  political  leanings  the  opinions  of 
all  the  "  Apostles  "  stand  revealed — they  seem  to 
have  been  at  one  over  all  these  questions — though 
some  of  them  in  addition  espoused  the  vexed  cause  of 
Women's  Suffrage. 

At  the  time  when  the  Maynooth  Endowment  Bill 
was  the  question  of  the  day,  a  number  of  the  members 
of  the  Senate  of  Cambridge  signed  a  petition  against 
the  Bill ;  on  which  Lushington  organized  a  counter 
memorial  in  its  favour.  On  his  paper  in  a  few  days 
he  had  six  hundred  signatures,  including  all  the  people 
of  eminence  in  Cambridge.  In  company  \vith  some  other 
promoters  he  presented  this  imposing  scroll  in  Downing 
Street,  on  which  occasion — more  to  his  amusement 


HENRY  LUSHINGTON  197 

than  amazement — Goldburn,  the  member  for  Cam- 
bridge, either  wilfully  or  stupidly  took  the  petition  in 
an  entirely  opposite  light  to  that  desired  ;  and  choos- 
ing to  infer  that  the  deputation  were  his  own  political 
supporters  and  entirely  indifferent  to  the  endowment 
of  Maynooth,  said  to  them :  "  You  will  be  glad  to 
hear,  Gentlemen,  that  our  friends  on  the  other  side 
are  not  seriously  hostile.  They  take  it  up  07ily  as  a 
matter  of  principle  /" 

In  1846,  he  was  appointed  Chief  Secretary  of  the 
Government  of  Malta  ;  this  change  of  scene  altered 
his  purely  negative  life  into  an  active  one.  Once  at 
his  post,  his  administrative  powers  were  found  to  be 
remarkably  high,  yet  he  continued  in  the  midst  of 
his  duties  to  exercise  his  fine  poetic  and  critical 
powers.  A  patriot,  as  well  as  a  polished  writer  of 
verse,  he  found  his  best  expression  in  what  may  be 
termed  Battle  pieces — ^in  "  The  Road  to  the  Trenches," 
a  poem  of  singularly  pathetic  beauty,  he  says — 

O'er  his  features,  as  he  hes. 

Calms  the  wrench  of  pain  : 

Close,  faint  eyes  ;  pass,  cruel  skies  ! 

Freezing  mountain  plain. 

With  far-off  sounds  the  stillness  teems  ; 

Church-bells, — voices  low. 

Passing  into  English  dreams 

There  amid  the  snow. 
And  darkening,  thickening  o'er  the  heights 
DowTi  fell  the  snow. 

Looking,  looking  for  the  mark, 
Down  the  others  came. 
Struggling  through  the  snowdrifts  stark, 
Calling  out  his  name  : 


igS        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

"  Here,  or  there  ?  "  the  drifts  are  deep  : 

"  Have  we  passed  him  ?  "     No  ! 

Look,  a  little  growing  heap, 

Snow  above  the  snow. 
Where  heavy  on  his  heavy  sleep 
Down  fell  the  snow. 

Simply  done  his  soldier's  part 

Through  long  months  of  woe. 

All  endured  with  soldier's  heart, 

Battle,  famine,  snow  : 
Noble,  nameless  English  heart, 
Snow-cold,  in  snow. 

He  used  to  say  that  his  "  was  a  generation  which  grew 
up  with  some  hopes  of  the  progress  of  men  :  some  faith  in 
their  country."  Someone  once  asked  why  Lushington 
had  not  kept  to  the  law,  or  done  better  at  it,  when 
Milnes  said :  "  Perhaps  he  paid  what  appears  to  be 
the  inevitable  penalty  of  humorous  men  in  their 
relations  to  public  life — that  of  seeming  unsteadfast 
to  the  narrow-minded,  and  insincere  to  the  stupid." 
And  Milnes  said  this  in  all  sincerity,  for  he  himself 
had  been  doubted  on  account  of  his  humour,  as 
had  been  more  than  one  of  them  in  those  earnest 
days. 

On  behalf  of  the  Itahans  Lushington  always 
laboured  with  generous  affection.  His  home  in  Malta 
.was  one  of  the  most  popular  resorts  in  the  island, 
and  he  was  highly  esteemed  and  beloved.  He  retained 
all  his  life  the  fragile  grace  which  distinguished  him 
as  well  as  his  beautiful  countenance.  Venables  thinks 
he  preserved  the  latter  because  it  had  "never  been 
distorted  by  a  bitter  feeling,  and  never  deformed  by  a 


HENRY    LUSHINGTON  199 

mean  or  grovelling  impulse."  Milnes  said  that  of  all  the 
people  of  his  youth,  with  the  exception  of  Arthur 
Hallam,  Henry  Lushington  rested  clearest  in  his 
memory. 

He  had  a  restful  disposition  and  rare  and  varied 
gifts,  and  Tennyson  had  a  true  affection  [for  him — he 
was  for  the  poet  one  of  his  ''Princes  of  Courtesy,"  but 
Tennyson  was  not  with  him  when  he  died  in  1855.  It 
was  Venables  who  undertook  that  memorable  and 
melancholy  pilgrimage,  who  brought  his  dying  friend 
step  by  step  from  Aries  to  Paris. 

*'  At  Dijon,"  he  says,  '*  I  at  his  request  read  him  a 
considerable  number  of  the  Odes  from  a  mutilated 
copy  of  Horace  which  was  the  only  edition  procurable 
in  the  shops  of  Lyons.  As  often  as  I  paused  at  one 
of  the  frequent  breaks  of  continuity,  he  repeated  the 
missing  passage  in  a  low  voice,  without  the  mistake  of 
a  word."  At  Paris,  at  the  last,  when  Venables  read  to 
him,  from  an  unpublished  copy  which  he  had  brought 
from  England  with  him,  Tennyson's  "  Daisy  "  and  his 
poem  to  the  Rev.  F.  D.  Maurice,  Lushington  said, 
"  How  the  simple  change  in  the  last  line  from  a  dactyl 
to  an  amphibrachys  changes  a  mere  experiment  into 
a  discovery  in  metre !  "  The  verses  remarked  upon 
being — 

Rev.  F.  D.  Maurice 

You'll  have  no  scandal  while  you  dine, 
But  honest  talk  and  wholesome  wine, 
And  only  hear  the  magpie  gossip 
Garrulous  under  a  roof  of  pine. 


200        THE    CAMBRIDGE    ''APOSTLES" 

The  Daisy. 

Or  tower,  or  high  hill-convent  seen 
A  light  amid  its  olives  green, 
Or  olive  hoary  cape  in  ocean. 
Or  rosy  blossom  in  hot  ravine. 

Milnes  was  at  Meurice's  in  Paris  at  the  time  Lush- 
ington  and  Venables  arrived  there  and  he  says: 
"  You  may  think  how  shocked  I  was  at  finding  dear 
Henry  Lushington  so  ill  that  there  is  little  hope  of  his 
life.  He  came  from  Malta  some  days  ago  with  his 
physician,  and  it  seems  doubtful  whether  he  can  move 
home,  which  he  is  anxious  to  do. — Poor  Venables  is 
with  him,  tending  him  like  a  lover,  and  carr3dng  him 
about  in  his  arms.  His  elder  brother  arrived  yester- 
day. All  this  blackens  this  bright  sky  and  makes  a 
visit  here  very  gloomy."  Then  again  :  ''Dear  Henry  is 
worse  and  worse  and  there  is  hardly  a  gleam  of  hope." 
.  .  .  And  again  :  "  Henry  Lushington  is  no  better,  they 
do  not  let  me  see  him  and  probably  I  never  shall  again. 
I  somehow  or  other  think  of  those  who  are  left  rather 
than  those  who  are  going,  and  thus  I  feel  more  for  Ven- 
ables than  for  himself.  It  has  been  the  best  and  truest 
friendship  I  have  ever  seen  in  life." 

The  phrase  which  best  expressed  Venables'  feelings 
over  this  great  loss  was,  he  says,  the  old  familar  words  : 
Quanta  pluris  tui  meminisse  quam  inter  alios  versari. 


CHAPTER  X 

FREDERICK    DENISON    MAURICE 

Angels  have  talked  with  him  and  showed  him  thrones; 
Ye  knew  him  not :  he  was  not  one  of  ye  ; 
Ye  scorned  him  with  an  undiscerning  scorn  : 
Ye  could  not  see  the  marvel  in  his  eye 
The  still  serene  abstraction. 

(Tennyson.) 

For,  being  of  that  honest  few. 
Who  give  the  Fiend  himself  his  due, 
Should  eighty-thousand  college-councils 
Thunder  "  Anathema  "  friend  at  you  : 

Should  all  our  churchmen  foam  in  spite 
At  you,  so  careful  of  the  right, 
Yet  one  lay-hearth  would  give  you  welcome 
(Take  it  and  come)  to  the  Isle  of  Wight. 

{Ibid.) 

A  PROFOUND  thinker,  a  hard  worker,  a  man  of  con- 
science and  of  scruples  ;  one  who  sought  all  his  life 
through  for  truth  in  order  to  reveal  it  to  others  grop- 
ing in  the  same  search  ;  a  rare  personality,  of  ascetic 
charm  and  philosophic  culture ;  a  teacher  who  founded 
a  school  and  attracted  a  multitude  ;  the  influence  of 
Frederick  Denison  Maurice  has  scarcely  lasted  in  the 
way  it  promised  nor  in  the  way  it  was  expected  to  do. 
It  may,  however,  be  too  soon  to  decide  conclusively 


202        THE    CAMBRIDGE  "  APOSTLES  " 

on  this  point ;  those  who  feel  his  hght  has  grown  a 
Httle  dim,  all  hope  that  with  the  swing  of  time  its  glow 
may  again  be  blown  into  flame  ;  and  if  in  the  days  to 
come  the  work  which  he  accomplished — apart  from 
the  educational  schemes  which  he  evolved,  which 
have  had  as  full  and  ample  achievement  as  he  himself 
could  have  wished— if  in  the  future  his  teaching  and 
writings  are  not  valued  so  highly  as  they  used  to  be 
for  their  intrinsic  worth,  their  hterary  merit  and  their 
conscientious  research,  still  those  who  go  to  him 
must  be  favourably  impressed  by  his  strength,  his 
purpose  and  his  loftiness  of  aim. 

Maurice,  in  common  with  many  of  the  highest 
intellects  of  the  early  part  of  the  nineteenth  century, 
was  born  of  Unitarian  parents;  an  accident  which 
coloured  his  character  and  caused  many  of  his  struggles; 
it  certainly  prevented  him  from  accepting  Hfe  with  the 
content  and  assurance  that  others,  educated  on 
broader  hues,  possessed.  The  passing  of  most  of  his 
family  at  different  times  into  different  rehgious  com- 
munities, also  complicated  his  threads  of  thought  and 
placed  him  at  an  early  impressionable  age  in  the  tur- 
moil of  theological  war.  These  early  mental  perturb- 
ations affected  his  self-confidence  in  later  hfe  and  made 
him  doubtful  of  the  soundness  of  the  conclusions  at 
which  he  arrived  even  after  profound  study  and 
mature  consideration.  The  hyper-humihty,  which  was 
part  of  his  most  intimate  nature,  went  hand  in  hand 
with  an  inward  and  secret  sensitiveness.  He  admitted 
himself  that  "  he  never  thought  his  own  arrangement 


Frederick  Dcnison    Maurice 

From  the  portrait  by  Samuel  Laurence 
Photographed  by  Emery    Walker 


FREDERICK    DENISON    MAURICE       203 

of  himself  satisfactory/'  and  in  his  searchings  after 
truth,  he  no  sooner  adopted  a  fresh  view  than  he  would 
begin  to  reconsider  with  regret  the  theory  he  had  just 
discarded. 

Had  Frederick  Maurice  been  only  more  sure  of  him- 
self and  his  own  position,  his  influence  would  have  been 
considerably  more  great  and  more  lasting  than  it  was, 
and  his  prophetic  instinct  of  more  unchallengeable 
value. 

He  went  up  to  Trinity  College,  Cambridge,  in  the 
year  1823,  being  then  eighteen,  and  he  went  there 
from  a  circle  who  imagined  that  the  system  at  that 
University  might  have  the  effect  of  narrowing  a  mind 
which  had  already  proclaimed  itself  to  be  no  ordinary 
one.  But  whatever  may  be  alleged  against  Cambridge, 
her  influence  has  never  been  what  could  be  described 
as  "narrowing."  Upon  Maurice  his  University  life 
had  as  broadening  an  effect  as  it  had  upon  his  com- 
panions Trench,  BuUer  and  Blakesley  and  on  those 
who  presently  joined  him  there,  Arthur  Hallam, 
Tennyson  and  Milnes — the  broadening  process  not 
being,  in  every  case,  equally  fruitful  of  good. 

At  Cambridge  he  at  once  set  about  forming  fresh 
aims  in  divers  directions.  Every  new  day,  every  new 
work,  every  new  conversation,  made  a  deep  impres- 
sion on  the  shy  and  emotional  youth,  "  The  more 
brilHant  but  less  profound  "  John  Sterhng  sought  him 
out,  insisted  on  having  his  friendship,  and  entered 
with  him  into  an  intellectual  alliance  which  not  only 
gave   pleasure   to   themselves   but   to   all  who   knew 


204        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

them.  For  years  these  two  were  close  companions, 
Sterhng  exerting  himself  always  for  Maurice's  wel- 
fare in  every  way,  but  most  of  all  in  endeavouring  to 
make  him  "  come  out  of  himself."  Each  of  them, 
strong  in  spirit,  influenced  the  other  more  than  he 
knew,  and  hardly  aware  of  his  own  work,  helped  to 
form  the  other^s  character. 

Maurice  had  even  then  the  penetrating  individuality 
of  the  master  mind  ;  a  power  which  at  once  and  in  all 
circles  made  itself  felt.  Through  Sterling's  instru- 
mentality he  was  initiated  into  the  company  of  the 
"  Apostles."  Treated  with  unwonted  respect  by  his 
contemporaries,  he  became  the  acknowledged  leader  of 
these  remarkable  men,  who,  as  soon  as  he  began  to 
formulate  his  thoughts,  showed  themselves  ready  to 
accept  from  him  whatever  he  had  to  give. 

His  metaphysical  powers  were  remarkably  great; 
though — despite  his  worship  of  his  friend — Sterhng 
would  only  allow  that  "  Maurice  had  in  him  the 
makings  of  a  metaphysician." 

However,  study  was  easy  to  Maurice,  and  he  did 
well ;  but  if  he  had  not  felt  his  position  as  a  Dissenter 
to  be  somewhat  anomalous,  he  would  for  certain  have 
done  better.  It  was  with  him  always  the  "  test  " 
question,  or  the  relative  position  of  man  to  God,  or 
Unitarianism  as  opposed  to  the  doctrines  of  the 
Church  of  England,  which  troubled  him. 

Maurice  was  no  sooner  an  "  Apostle  "  than  he  set 
to  work  to  reorganize  the  "  Society  "  and  to  make  in 
it   drastic   and   sweeping   reforms.     Finding   it   limp 


FREDERICK    DENISON    MAURICE       205 

after  too  rapid  a  growth,  he  imbued  it  with  new 
strength,  turned  its  aspirations  towards  higher  objects, 
showed  it  its  own  power  and  caused  it  to  be  univer- 
sally recognized  as  the  most  remarkable  and  interest- 
ing Society  of  the  first  half  of  the  nineteenth  century. 

He  fired  his  fellows  with  new  ardour  ;  they  warmed 
to  the  work  which  he  inspired,  and  gradually  Maurice 
himself  began  to  draw  fervour  from  the  burning  dis- 
cussions which  he  had  kindled.  Filled  with  the  glow 
of  a  new  self-confidence,  he  shone  forth  and  dazzled 
all  with  a  brilHancy  which  had  too  long  been  kept 
under  a  bushel.  It  would  be  useless  to  pretend  that 
the  opinions  which  then,  or  even  a  little  later  on,  took 
the  strongest  hold  on  the  ''  Apostles  "  were  always 
sound  and  well  balanced.  The  abstruseness  of  the  topic 
chosen,  and  the  unquestioning  confidence  they  reposed 
in  their  favourite  advocate  of  it,  had  often  an  unset- 
tling effect  upon  "  changing  youth,"  though  perhaps 
the  unsettledness  of  mind  of  the  ^'Apostles"  at  that 
time,  should  only  be  reckoned  as  part  of  a  phase 
through  which  the  whole  educated  world  was  then 
strugghng. 

In  1825  Maurice  became  part  editor  of  the  Metro- 
politan Quarterly,  a  review  which  only  ran  into  four 
numbers,  but  which  affords  interesting  evidence  of 
the  high  and  polished  literary  attainments,  even  in 
those  early  days,  of  Maurice  and  his.  college  friends. 
It  was  an  excellent  Review,  admirably  conducted,  and 
its  failure  seems  quite  unaccountable. 

Its   collapse   was  a   heavy  blow   to   Maurice,  who 


2o6       THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

had  privately  thought  it  might  have  been  the  first 
step  in  a  hterary  career.  Most  of  the  "  Apostles,"  full 
of  expectation  and  hope  in  his  future,  were  for  his 
joining  the  Church  and  taking  orders.  John  Kemble 
indeed  vowed  he  should  "  one  day  be  his  curate,"  but 
Maurice  could  not  then  see  his  way  to  such  a  course. 
He  turned  his  thoughts  to  the  bar,  and  in  1827  migrated 
to  Trinity  Hall,  in  order  to  pursue  his  law  studies 
there ;  and  thither  John  Sterling  soon  afterwards 
followed  him. 

Maurice  and  Sterling,  who  took  themselves  even 
more  seriously  than  did  the  other  Apostles  of  their 
time,  were  ambitious  to  achieve  more  than  they, 
— more  indeed  than  was  humanly  possible.  In  their 
keenness  to  peer  beyond  the  horizon  of  Philosophy 
— farther  than  the  range  of  intellectual  vision — inter- 
jacent facts  faded  out  of  their  focus,  and  truths  which 
to  less  eager  eyes  stood  forth  clear-cut  and  defined, 
became  to  their  strained  vision  blurred  and  indistinct. 
They  were  clever  enough  to  know  in  their  hearts  that 
they  had  overtaxed  their  powers,  but,  in  the  pride  of 
youth,  they  were  loth  to  admit  it.  It  was  probably 
this  failure  which  gave  them  the  sadness  of  expression 
which  distinguished  them  both. 

Maurice  always  acknowledged  that  he  was  under 
the  greatest  of  obligations  to  Sterling,  He  practically 
lived  with  him  at  Cambridge.  He  always  spoke  and 
thought  of  his  friend  reverently  and  affectionately. 
"  Sterling,"  said  he,  "  fancied  all  fine  things  of  me 
because  I  had  exactly  the  qualities  he  wanted,  and 


FREDERICK    DENISON    MAURICE       207 

was  deficient  in  those  which  he  had,"  and  of  a  later 
time  he  says :  "  When  this  opinion  was  shaken,  when 
he  (Sterhng)  suspected  I  had  passed  into  a  fanatical 
theologian,  and  when  I  was  hard  and  cold  to  him,  he 
still  showed  me  the  rarest  friendship."  While  Ster- 
ling said  of  Maurice  :  "  With  his  frankness  and  noble- 
ness which  always  exaggerated  his  debts  to  others  he 
immensely  overrated  what  he  owed  to  me  and  suffered 
the  inevitable  disappointment  which  follows  when  a 
supposed  hero  turns  out  to  be  what  he  is." 

Maurice  in  due  course  took  a  first  class  in  civil  law, 
to  the  exultation  of  his  Apostolic  friends,  who  urged 
him  now  to  take  his  B.C.L.,  and  influenced  him  so  that 
he  wrote  to  ask  what  ''  degree  of  consent  and  adher- 
ence to  the  doctrines  and  formulas  of  the  Church  of 
England  he  would  have  to  profess,  in  order  to  obtain 
admission  to  the  degree."  He  was  told  the  profes- 
sion of  Conformity  which  would  be  exacted  from 
him,  on  which  he  immediately  requested  that  his 
name  might  be  taken  from  the  books.  "  He  was  con- 
vinced that  he  could  never  conscientiously  fulfil  these 
requirements," — that  is  to  say,  allegiance  to  and 
observance  of  the  canons  of  the  EstabHshed  Church. 
As  his  intellectual  value  was  so  highly  esteemed,  the 
importance  of  taking  a  degree  was  pressed  upon 
him,  whereon  he  wrote  imperatively  and  begged  that 
his  name  might  be  removed  at  once.  "  Whatever  his 
rehgious  convictions  might  ultimately  become  he  would 
not  hang  a  bridle  round  his  neck  to  lead  his  con- 
science."    His  father,  used  by  this  time  to  change  of 


2o8        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

thought  in  his  children,  was  dehghted  that  his  son  had 
"  preserved  his  principles  at  the  sacrifice  of  his  inter- 
ests/' and  joyfully  upheld  him  in  his  decision. 

Maurice's  life  and  acts  at  this  period  are  worthy  of 
all  praise,  particularly  as  there  is  no  doubt  that  from 
his  character,  conduct  and  success,  he  would  have 
received  a  Fellowship  had  he  made  that  his  object; 
but  he  turned  his  back  upon  the  temptation  and 
entered  seriously  upon  a  literary  life. 

All  this  time,  however,  although  he  hesitated  to 
admit  it,  his  sympathy  with  the  Church  was  growing 
in  strength,  especially  as  the  influence  over  him  of  the 
German  Philosophers — to  which  he  and  his  compan- 
ions had  all  submitted  for  a  period — was  sensibly 
weakening.  Throughout  his  theological  researches, 
Maurice  stoutly  maintained  he  had  no  desire  for 
rehgious  excitement — ^but  it  is  sure  that  few  men  ever 
lived  in  a  greater  whirl  of  it  than  he.  A  trifling 
quibble,  a  tiny  scruple,  would  suffice  to  set  his  mind  in 
a  ferment.  He  was  unable,  at  this  period,  to  contem- 
plate calmly  the  science  of  Theology.  He  hved  perpet- 
ually in  that  very  state  of  "  religious  excitement  " 
which  he  professed  and  believed  himself  to  disregard. 

He,  however,  found  peacefulness  and  rest  in  his 
friendships,  which  were  many,  strong  and  varied. 
He  was  as  firmly  attached  to  Kemble — gay,  debon- 
naire  and  sincere — as  he  was  to  the  brilUant  and 
speculative  Sterhng.  Kemble,  in  his  loyal  affection, 
followed  Maurice  and  Sterling  for  a  certain  distance  in 
one  of  their  wanderings  through  theological  mazes,  and 


FREDERICK    DENISON    MAURICE       209 

wrote,  when  he  had  safely  emerged  and  Maurice  already 
saw  his  way  out  :  "  Maurice  has  determined  to  put  his 
shoulder  also  to  the  wheel,  and  to  stand  up  in  these  later 
days  as  one  of  the  watchmen  and  defenders.  He  has  de- 
clared for  the  Church.  .  .  .  If  he  only  remains  what 
I  have  known  him  to  be,  the  Church  will  rarely  have 
possessed  a  braver  or  a  more  protecting  champion.  He 
is  a  man  of  war  in  the  panoply  of  intellect  and  will." 

Maurice  left  Cambridge  sadly  and  wistfully,  feeling 
he  had  not  fulfilled  his  part  there  ;  but  while  he  deplored 
Cambridge  levity  of  tone  and  Cambridge  slang,  he 
spoke  with  enthusiasm  of  Cambridge  affectionateness 
and  Cambridge  generosity.  Of  himself  he  says,  look- 
ing back  on  those  times  and  speaking  of  his  position 
among  the  *'  Apostles  "  and  other  societies  where  he  was 
wont  to  sway  the  majority:  '*  I  was  a  noisy  and  often 
angry  disputant — though  mixing  much  shyness  with 
my  presumption.  In  most  parties  I  was  reckoned  a 
bore." 

His  work  during  his  career  as  a  reviewer  shows 
the  greatest  abihty  and  the  widest  range  of  thought, 
but  he  did  not  really  shine  as  a  journalist.  To  begin 
wdth,  he  was  not  happy.  He  did  not  like  London  ;  his 
life  there  was  all  struggle,  and  a  want  of  success  in  his 
work  together  with  his  straitened  circumstances,  told 
upon  his  spirit.  That  which  stood  much  in  his  way 
during  those  trying  months  was  the  fact  that  he  did 
not  go  enough  into  society  ;  his  chief  obstacle,  however, 
was  his  low  estimate  of  his  own  powers,  which  friends 
as  weU  as  strangers  deplored  in  him.      But    if  he  did 

i4-(23i8) 


210        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

not  go  out  much,  he  saw  most  of  the  Cambridge 
men  who  passed  through  or  hved  in  London,  and 
he  was  constantly  with  Sterhng,  who  watched  over 
him  with  extraordinary  zeal,  helping  him  in  his  Hfe, 
encouraging  him  in  his  work,  and  fitting  in  with  all 
his  moods.  "  Maurice  gets  wiser  and  more  practical 
every  day,"  he  said ;  and  if  this  was  true,  Maurice  was 
learning  those  virtues  in  a  hard  school,  for  almost 
everything  he  touched  at  that  time  failed  dismally. 
When  things  were  at  their  worst  he  and  Sterling 
decided  they  would  both  write  a  novel,  in  which 
each  should  incorporate  in  romantic  form  his  thoughts 
on  the  several  subjects  which  had  caused  them  the 
greatest  agony  of  mind.  This  plan,  decided  in  all 
seriousness,  sounds  to-day  more  like  the  extravagant 
suggestion  of  a  humorist  than  the  sober  outcome  of 
two  serious  minds. 

Together  too  they  took  over  the  AthencBiim,  hoping 
much  from  it.  Their  "Apostolic"  friends  sent  con- 
tributions to  it,  and  they  both  worked  hard,  Maurice 
especially,  for  he  of  himself  sometimes  filled  its  pages. 
It  is  probable  that  it  was  the  Spanish  business  which 
gave  this  paper  its  coup  de  grace.  The  public  was  not 
so  much  interested  in  Spanish  "  exiles  "  as  were  the 
"  Apostles,"  who  meeting  them  constantly  in  Sterling's 
rooms  fell  beneath  their  spell  and  made  themselves 
their  patrons  as  well  as  their  champions.  Maurice 
met  many  of  the  Spaniards  and  knew  them  well ;  but 
though  he  pleaded  their  cause  in  the  AthencBum,  it 
was  in  a  half-hearted  way,  for  he  was  not  really  in 


FREDERICK    DENISON    MAURICE       211 

sympathy  with  them.  It  is  possible  that  he,  with  all 
respect  be  it  said,  may  have  been  a  little  bored  with 
them,  and  unconsciously  allowed  his  father's  losses  in 
Spanish  bonds  and  the  consequent  curtailment  of  his 
own  economic  liberty,  to  have  a  little  prejudiced  him 
against  the  ^'  cause." 

While  he  was  working  on  his  paper,  he  was  at  the 
same  time  working  for  relaxation  at  his  psychological 
novel ;  and,  in  the  course  of  its  development,  studi- 
ously weighing  and  analyzing — confuting  or  agreeing 
with — every  theory  and  opinion  which  presented 
itself  to  the  mind  of  its  hero ;  as  a  result,  his  concord- 
ance with  the  beliefs  of  the  Church  became  strength- 
ened and  he  presently  resolved  to  take  his  degree  after 
aU,  with  an  ultimate  view  to  Holy  Orders.  Julius 
Hare,  on  discovering  this,  urged  his  return  to  Cam- 
bridge— although  he  feared,  while  persuading,  that 
he  had  not  then  enough  of  determined  aim  in  him  to 
accomplish  much.  But  Maurice,  remembering  the 
suffering  he  had  experienced  through  the  falseness 
of  his  former  position  at  that  University,  shrank  from 
returning  there.  On  this  John  Sterling  entered  his 
name  at  Oxford,  whither  he  went  in  1829,  to  Exeter 
College,  where  Sterling  soon  followed  him.  When  it 
became  known  that  Maurice  had  taken  this  unusual 
step,  people  wondered  how  he  could  bring  himself  to 
recommence  life  in  this  way  ;  on  which  he  said  he 
thought  that  to  begin  again  as  an  undergraduate 
would  be  "  profitable  humiliation  to  him  after  the  airs 
he  had  given  himself  in  his  literary  Hfe." 


212        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

Friends  at  Cambridge  gave  him  introductions  to 
Oxford  friends.  In  thanking  Hare  for  the"  flattering 
testimony  "  which  he  had  given  on  his  behalf — which 
was  of  substantial  assistance  to  him  in  obtaining  con- 
cessions from  the  Oxford  authorities  in  respect  of  terms 
he  had  kept  at  Cambridge — he  said  he  thought,  as  his 
tendency  had  hitherto  been  to  be  too  loose  and  inco- 
herent in  his  speculations,  that  the  habit  of  the  place 
(Oxford)  might  operate  rather  as  a  useful  check  than  as 
a  dangerous  temptation  to  him.  "  If  I  could  hope  to 
combine  in  myself  something  of  that  freedom  and 
courage  for  which  the  young  men  whom  I  knew  at 
Cambridge  were  remarkable,  with  something  more  of 
sohdity  and  reverence  for  what  is  established,  I  should 
begin  to  fancy  that  I  had  some  useful  qualities  for  a 
member  of  the  Church  of  England." 

Arthur  Hallam  wrote  to  Gladstone,  exhorting  him 
to  cultivate  Maurice's  acquaintance.  "  An  acquantance 
which  from  all  I  have  heard  must  be  invaluable.  I 
do  not  myself  know  Maurice,  but  I  know  well  many 
whom  he  has  known  and  whom  he  has  moulded  hke  a 
second  nature,  and  these,  too,  men  eminent  for  intellec- 
tual power,  to  whom  the  presence  of  a  commanding 
spirit  would,  in  all  other  cases,  be  a  signal  rather  for 
rivalry  than  for  reverential  acknowledgment.  The 
effect  which  he  produced  on  the  minds  of  many  at 
Cambridge  by  the  creation  of  that  society  of  the 
*  Apostles  '  (for  the  spirit,  though  not  the  form  was 
created  by  him)  is  far  greater  than  I  dare  to  calculate, 
and  will  be  felt  both  directly  and  indirectly  in  the  age 
that  is  upon  us." 


FREDERICK    DENISON    MAURICE       213 

"  I  know  Maurice  well/'  said  Mr.  Gladstone,  *'  had 
heard  superlative  accounts  of  him  from  Cambridge,  and 
strove  hard  to  make  them  all  realities  to  myself  .  .  . 
I  think  he  and  other  friends  did  me  good,  but  I  got 
little  solid  meat  from  him,  as  I  found  him  difficult  to 
catch,  and  still  more  difficult  to  hold." 

Gladstone  also  tells  how  once  Maurice,  being  due  to 
read  a  paper  before  the  "  Essay  Club  "  (a  society  which 
had  been  inaugurated  on  the  hues  of  the  "Apostles"),  was 
found,  when  they  all  arrived  for  the  reading,  in  his  own 
room  engaged  in  writing  the  beginning  of  an  entirely 
new  essay,  having  been  so  discontented  with  his  first 
attempt  that  he  had  thrown  it  into  the  fire. 

Maurice  went  to  Oxford  entirely  without  enthus- 
iasm. His  credentials  commanded  for  him  a  welcome 
from  every  one  worth  knowing  in  the  University, 
which  was  at  that  time  full  of  interesting  men  ;  of  a 
different  order  of  thought  and  expression,  it  is  true, 
from  the  brilliant  circle  with  which  he  had  been 
intimate  at  Cambridge,  but  more  in  harmony,  perhaps, 
with  his  own  grave  and  conscientious  disposition.  In 
fact,  there  is  no  doubt  that  Maurice  was  intended  by 
Providence  for  Oxford,  and  that  he  felt  far  more  in 
his  element  in  the  sedate  society  he  found  there  than 
in  the  Hght-hearted  set  he  had  left  behind  him.  His 
intercourse  with  his  new  friends,  however,  did  not 
make  upon  him  the  mark  he  had  anticipated  ;  the  fact 
being  that  he  was  less  impressionable  than  he  had 
been  two  or  three  years  before  ;  also  that  he  was  pass- 
ing though  a  crisis  which  kept  all  his  thoughts  self- 


214        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

centred  and  left  them  comparatively  insensible  to 
external  influences.  Although  his  opinions  were  far 
better  discipUned  than  in  the  old  Cambridge  days,  it 
must  have  cost  him  considerable  moral  disquietude 
when  the  time  came  for  him  actually  to  endorse  by 
his  signature  the  uncongenial  Thirty-Nine  Articles. 
He  vented  his  feelings  some  years  later  in  a  pamphlet 
called  Suhscription  no  Bondage,  which  was  shown  to 
both  Pusey  and  Newman  and  taken  and  accepted  by 
them  without  surprise  and  without  comment,  they 
having,  Maurice  thinks,  both  of  them  subscribed  to 
the  articles  in  much  the  same  state  of  mind  as  he  had 
done.  There  never  was  a  franker,  more  candid  spirit 
than  Maurice's.  He  says  himself  of  this  outburst : 
"  I  had  a  moderately  clear  instinct  when  I  wrote  it 
that  I  never  could  be  acceptable  to  any  of  the  schools 
in  the  Church  :  that  if  I  maintained  what  seemed  to 
me  the  true  position  of  a  Churchman,  I  must  be  in 
hostility  more  or  less  marked  with  each  of  them." 
Later,  when  his  views  had  changed  and  he  was  strong 
enough  to  repudiate  his  own  sentiments,  he  wrote 
another  paper  in  which  he  advised  the  abolition  of  tests 
and  which  he  entitled  Suhscription  is  Bondage — a  volte- 
face  trying  even  for  a  humble  man. 

Maurice  may  be  said  to  have  been  reared  on  sermons. 
All  his  family  were  in  the  habit  of  writing,  in  all  good 
faith,  long  and  earnest  homilies  to  one  another  ;  and 
although  family  affection  was  not  the  warmest  of  his 
emotions,  he  could  speak  of  these  letters  almost 
poetically,  showing  that  their  advent  gave  him  one  of 


FREDERICK    DENISON    MAURICE       215 

his  few  perfect  pleasures.  Speaking  of  a  dearly-loved 
sister's  burial,  soon  after  his  joining  the  Church,  he 
said  :  "  There  is  something  exquisitely  painful  in  the 
insensibility  and  apathy  I  have  hitherto  experienced, 
but  it  is  wicked  to  make  a  complaint.  ...  I  feel 
that  everybody  put  into  this  earth  is  a  new  invasion 
of  Satan's  present  dominion,  a  new  declaration  that 
Christ  is  coming  to  claim  the  earth  for  His  Church." 

Whenever  in  early  days  he  was  over  persuaded  into 
giving  an  opinion  on  the  thoughts  or  conduct  of  others, 
he  always  regretted  it,  and  would  say :  "  Of  all  spirits, 
I  beheve  the  spirit  of  judging  is  the  worse,  and  it  has 
the  rule  of  me  I  cannot  tell  how  dreadfully  and  how 
long." 

While  thinking  over  the  Ordination  Service,  he  said  : 
"  I  am  not  going  into  a  Church  in  which  I  look  for  a 
bed  of  down.  That  as  an  establishment  it  will  be 
overturned,  I  know  not  how  soon,  I  am  nearly  con- 
vinced. Yet  I  would  sooner  be  a  member  of  it  now 
than  in  the  days  of  its  greatest  prosperity."  His 
depression  of  spirits  during  his  fi^ht  with  family  and 
friends  over  his  conversion  had  a  prejudicial  effect 
upon  the  work  he  was  putting  into  his  novel,  with  the 
result  that  he  was  advised  to  cut  half  of  it  away. 

On  this  he  re-modelled  the  book,  though  the  entailed 
delay  caused  him  disappointment  and  anxiety,  for 
he  had  thought,  with  the  hopefulness  of  that  far- 
off  day,  with  the  profits  on  his  story,  to  pay  his  ex- 
penses at  Oxford.  Fortunately  soon  aftei wards  the 
financial  position  of  his  people  became  substantially 


2i6        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

improved,  and  when  the  book  was  ultimately  finished 
Sterling  took  it  in  hand  and  succeeded  in  getting  it 
pubhshed,  and  after  it  was  out  pushed  it  all  he  could. 
But  Eustace  Conway  was  not  a  pleasing  book,  though 
one  critic  maintained  that  "  A  work  of  such  power,  of 
such  intimate  knowledge  of  the  human  soul,  can 
never  be  a  failure."  In  sending  a  copy  to  Trench, 
Maurice  said:  "  There  will  be  nothing  in  it,  I  am  sure, 
which  can  tempt  you  to  any  Lot's-wife  act  of  looking 
at  the  doomed  city  from  which  you  have  escaped." 
This  was  a  reference  to  the  days  when  Trench  had 
written  a  play  and  had  himself  made  designs  for 
novels.  At  the  annual  dinner  of  the  "  Apostles " 
that  year,  1834,  Maurice  was  toasted  three  times  by 
his  *'  Apostohc  "  brethren.  First  as  an  author  of  the 
Club.  Second  as  having  taken  Orders  since  the  last 
meeting.     Third  as  the  author  of  Eustace  Conway. 

When  the  chaplaincy  of  Guy's  was  offered  him 
he  gratefully  accepted  it,  feeling  convinced  that  his 
work  was  on  the  battlefield  and  that  the  battle  was 
to  be  fought  in  London.  As  his  fame  increased, 
and  his  new  opinions  became  more  and  more  widely 
known,  many  of  his  old  friends  fell  out  with  him  on 
account  of  his  broader  views,  while  others  avoided 
his  company  lest  they  might  find  they  could  no  longer 
agree.  Maurice  was  never  a  companionable  thinker  : 
that  is  to  say,  it  was  never  in  his  nature,  if  puzzled  by 
a  problem,  to  take  it  to  his  friends  and  seek  their  help 
in  solving  it.  He  would  rather  seclude  himself  and 
work  it  out    alone.      This  moral    unsociability  was 


FREDERICK    DENISON    MAURICE       217 

a  source  of  great  distress  to  him  ;  he  felt  keenly  the 
fact  that  he  was  not  able  to  converse  freely  with  those 
who  loved  him  best  concerning  the  workings  of  his 
mind  ;  and  he  knew,  although  he  could  not  alter 
his  temperament,  that  it  was  this  reticence  which 
kept  some  friends  at  a  distance,  and  which  offended 
others. 

But  although  he  could  not  bring  himself  to  discuss 
current  questions  with  his  intimates,  he  was  able  to 
find  some  relief,  as  his  views  became  definite  and 
formulated,  in  giving  them  forth  to  the  world  at  large 
in  the  form  of  pamphlets  and  sermons.  During  the 
various  crises  in  the  Oxford  movement,  we  find  him 
from  time  to  time  endeavouring  to  bring  the  world 
back  again  to  "  simple  and  trustful  views."  *'  Oh 
that  our  High  Churchmen,"  he  exclaims,  "  would  but 
be  Catholics  !  At  present  they  seem  to  me  three  parts 
Papist  and  one  part  Protestant,  but  the  tertium  quid, 
the  glorious  product  of  each  element  so  different  from 
both,  I  cannot  discern  even  in  the  best  of  them." 

There  was  never  a  man  with  a  less  self-seeking 
nature  than  Maurice.  More  than  once,  when  prefer- 
ment was  offered  him,  he  said  :  "  If  I  am  to  do  anything 
for  the  Church,  it  must  be  in  a  subordinate  position," 
and  he  would  proceed  to  urge  the  claims  of  some  one 
else  in  his  place.  It  was  while  delivering  a  series  of 
lectures  at  Guy's  Hospital  that  he  commenced  his 
important  work  on  Moral  and  Metaphysical  Philosophy, 
which  remains  a  monument  to  his  intellectual  powers 
as  well   as  to   his  indefatigable  industry.      He  was 


2i8        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

an  admirable  writer — lucid,  forcible,  elegant,  often 
picturesque — but  he  lacked  one  quality  essential  to 
lasting  fame  and  greatness,  one  which  must  be  freely 
given  by  the  gods,  for  it  cannot  be  acquired,  even 
at  Cambridge ;  Maurice  was  entirely  deficient  in 
humour. 

It  was  in  1838  that  he  was  introduced  to  Carlyle 
by  James  Spedding,  at  his  hospitable  rooms  at  Lin- 
coln's Inn — the  first  meeting-place  of  so  many  of  the 
great  men  of  the  day.  In  this  case  the  friendship  did 
not  progress  far.  The  two  admired  each  other,  it 
is  true,  but  somewhat  grudgingly.  Maurice  was  not 
at  his  ease  with  Carlyle,  and  whenever  they  met 
would  awkwardly  burst  into  controversy  with  him, 
a  contingency  which  Carlyle  always  sought  to  avoid. 
Maurice,  too,  imagined,  no  doubt  erroneously,  that 
Carlyle  thought  him  "  a  sham,"  and  this  did  not  tend 
to  bring  the  two  philosophers  of  opposite  schools  into 
affectionate  relations.  Carlyle's  lectures  always  made 
considerable  impression  upon  Maurice,  though  he 
criticized  them  freely,  and  maintained  that  the 
"  Sage  "  would  "  say  and  repeat  things  he  laughed 
to  scorn  in  other  men."  He  complained  loudly  too 
of  Carlyle's  "  silly  rant  about  the  great  bosom  of 
nature."  It  is  difficult  to  say  why  these  two  should 
have  failed  so  utterly  to  get  on  together,  except  that 
their  natures  were  essentially  different — that  Carlyle 
having  once  formed  an  opinion  upon  a  point  was 
content,  while  Maurice  seldom  was.  But  Maurice's 
attitude  towards  Carlyle  resembled  his  attitude  towards 


FREDERICK    DENISON    MAURICE       219 

the  "  Schools  " — it  was  ■  eminently  conscientious, 
but  pre-eminently  unsatisfactory- 

Whenever  (and  it  was  often)  he  felt  strongly,  he 
rushed  into  print  ;  and  for  a  long  period  his  Ufe  was 
plunged  in  controversy  ;  he  was  a  mettlesome  but 
absolutely  fair  antagonist.  He  was  bitter  against 
those  who  expressed  negative  feelings  in  religion,  yet 
he  wrote  his  pamphlet  on  To  be  on  Neither  Side.  His 
impartiality  lost  him  from  time  to  time  some  partisans, 
and  he  at  last  became  conscious  that  he  was  not  popu- 
lar. The  time  he  suffered  most  was  when  he  had  to 
cut  himself  from  "  heretic  "  friends.  For  years  he  was 
sure  there  was  but  one  man  to  save  the  Church,  and  that 
that  man  was  Manning.  He  said  of  him  he  was  the 
''  completest  man  he  had  ever  met,"  and  "  if  there  are 
ten  such,  [  think  England  is  not  Sodom."  And  this 
he  said  knowing  that  Manning  was  suspicious  of  him 
and  perhaps,  hke  Carlyle,  not  quite  sure  that  he  was 
not  a  "  sham." 

He  was  the  most  modest  preacher  of  strong  views 
that  modern  times  have  seen.  When  he  was  writing  his 
Mental  and  Moral  Philosophy  — the  work  by  which 
he  will  in  all  probabihty  live — he  said :  "I  hke  this 
task  better  than  declaiming  about  greater  matters  : 
facts  are  becoming  dearer  to  me  every  day." 

The  amount  of  physical  and  mental  work  which  he 
accomplished  is  incalculable :  still  he  found  time 
for  relaxation.  He  saw  Tennyson  and  Milnes  when- 
ever he  could.  Spedding  and  Venables  were  his  close 
associates,  and  the  most  sympathetic  of  his  friends. 


220        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

He  was  not  intimate  with  all  our  "  Apostles,"    but 
that  was  probably  because    he    travelled   in    realms 
whither  some  of  them  could  not  follow  him.     Brook- 
field  he  met  constantly — their  duties  as  well  as  their 
inchnations   bringing    them    often    together.     Brook- 
field  notes  in  his  diary  that  Mrs.  Brookfield  would  go 
surreptitiously  to  Lincoln's  Inn  to  hear  Maurice,  and 
"  This   afternoon    Thackeray   and    Garden    came    to 
luncheon.     Mrs.  B.  and  Garden  went  after  to  Lincoln's 
Inn  Chapel  to  hear  Maurice.     I  called  on  Sir  E.  Perry, 
where  was  Phinn,  M.P.     I  sat  a  long  while  talking, 
and  finally  went  into  Mrs.  Elhot's,  where  Lady  Heslop, 
Mrs.   C.   EUiot,  and  W.   Harcourt.     Dined  at  home, 
Thackeray  and  Harcourt  joining  in  with  infinite  mirth. 
They,  with  Jane,  were  talking  before  dinner  how  the 
second  lesson  that  afternon  had  been  '  quite  a  chapter 
for    Maurice,'    apparently    unconscious    how    exactly 
like   other   cliques   and   religious   coteries   they   were 
talking."     Maurice,    though,    attended    "  Apostolic " 
meetings.     He  says  once :  "  I  go  to-day  to  dine  with 
my  old  Cambridge  friends  "  (i.e.,  the  *  Apostles '  Club) ; 
''  the  bonds  which  connect  me  with  them  are  very  sacred. 
I  owe  very  much  to  them — more  than  any  one  can 
tell.     But  I  have  never  rightly  used  my  opportunities, 
and  any  meeting  with  them  is  or  should  be  a  reason 
for  fresh  humihation;  so  much  good  that  one  might 
do  has  been  left  undone,  so  many  words  unspoken, 
and  so  many  spoken  too  much.     Oftentimes  I  have 
thought  I  would  hold  no  more  intercourse  with  them 
(though  I  always  learn  something  from  them),  if  I 


FREDERICK    DENISON    MAURICE       221 

could  not  be  more  helpful  to  them,  but  I  beheve  it 
is  right  to  keep  up  every  old  tie  and  to  strengthen  it  if 
possible.  Good  does  come  out  of  it,  if  we  are  ever  so 
weak." 

It  is  difficult  to  get  at  Maurice's  real  views  about 
the  **  Apostles."  On  one  occasion  he  said  he  thought 
some  of  them  ought  to  "  thank  God  for  ha\dng  passed 
through  a  debating  Society  with  any  part  of  their 
souls  undestroyed."  He  was  constantly  fighting  the 
press,  and  in  doing  so  once  expounded  an  important 
truth.  "  The  Record;'  he  says,"  which  talks  of  us  all 
as  infidels"  (this  was  concerning  the  Sterhng  Club), 
"  has  been  the  cause  of  more  bitter  infidehty  in  the 
younger  branches  of  rehgious  famihes  than  all  Vol- 
taire's writings  together." 

But  Maurice's  contempt  for  human  respect  led  him 
to  perhaps  an  injudicious  disregard  of  the  impression 
his  conduct  conveyed.  For  instance,  he  mixed  him- 
self up  with  Sociahsm  in  times  when  its  purest  form 
could  not,  by  the  pubhc  eye,  be  distinguished  from 
its  foulest,  and  so  he  was  misunderstood  ;  he  brought 
obloquy  on  himself  by  his  teachings  on  certain  points 
which  the  Guardian  pronounced  to  be  dangerous,  and 
which  it  condemned.  And  partly  in  consequence  of 
this  he  was  asked,  after  thirteen  years  of  splendid 
work,  to  resign  his  professorship  at  King's  College. 

After  the  stormy  comments  which  all  this  provoked, 
Tennyson's  invitation  to  him  reflects  glory  on  the  poet 
as  a  friend  and  as  an  "  Apostle."  In  the  rhymed 
invitation  to  the  Isle  of  Wight,  does  he  not  tenderiy 
say — 


222        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

You'll  have  no  scandal  while  you  dine, 
But  honest  talk  and  wholesome  wine, 
And  only  hear  the  magpie  gossip, 
Garrulous  under  a  roof  of  pine. 

We  might  discuss  the  Northern  sin 
Which  made  a  selfish  war  begin  ; 

How  best  to  help  the  slender  store. 
How  mend  the  dwellings  of  the  poor  ; 
How  gain,  in  life,  as  life  advances, 
Valour  and  charity  more  and  more. 

Monckton  Milnes,  who  always  kept  on  happy  terms 
with  Maurice,  and  loved  him  the  more  as  he  became 
the  more  notorious,  commenting  upon  this  business, 
at  the  Grange,  the  Christmas  after  it  occurred,  said  \ 
"  Lord  Radstock  was  the  theologian  who  condemned 
Maurice  in  the  King's  College  Council.  .  .  .     Where- 
upon Venables  maintained  that  Maurice,  in  that  hour, 
'gave  the  grandest  example  of  human  nature  possible.' '' 
That  which  most  affected  Maurice  during  this  un- 
happy time  was  the  address  of  sympathy  presented  to 
him  by  a  body  of  working  men— a  touching  memorial 
which  embodied  in  it  a  hint  that  he  should  place  him- 
self at  the  head  of  a  college  for  working  men.   Edu- 
cation being  Maurice's  great  hope  for  the  country— his 
lecture    on    Has  the  Church  or  the  State  the  Right  to 
Educate  the  Nation  ?    might  with    profit  be  now  read 
—the  idea  grew  in  his  mind,  and  soon  a  scheme  was 
drawn  up  which  became  the  basis  of  a  college  for  this 
purpose.     He   himself   took   a   house,   and   arranged 
it  and  invited  professors  to  give  their  services  to  it, 


FREDERICK    DENISON    MAURICE       223 

and  so  started  one  of  the  most  wonderful  institutions 
of  modern  times. 

Although  a  Church  Reformer,  it  is  on  social  questions 
that  Maurice  is  best  seen.  Here  his  ambitions,  his 
organizing  faculties,  his  true  and  heartiest  sympathies, 
had]  their  best  scope  and  most  comprehensive  ex- 
pression. These  were  his  true  life's  work — which  once 
begun,  he  carried  on  with  rare  genius  ;  and  the  suc- 
cess of  aU  that  he  inaugurated  in  this  way  is  the  best 
testimony  to  the  excellence  of  his  plans  and  the 
greatness  of  his  abilities.  A  part  of  a  fine  letter 
written  to  some  one  who  suggested  that  Charles 
Buller's  scheme  for  emigration  for  our  poor  was  in- 
expedient, is  worth  quoting  :  *'  Colonization  is  not 
transportation  :  it  is  a  brave,  hearty,  Saxon,  Chris- 
tian work.  To  stir  up  men  and  women  to  engage  in 
it  is  to  stir  them  up  to  feel  that  they  are  men  and 
women  in  the  highest,  truest  sense  of  the  words." 

His  working  men  were  the  first  to  congratulate  him 
on  his  appointment  to  the  Chair  of  Moral  Philosophy 
at  Cambridge  ;  though  when  this  tardy  comphment 
was  paid  to  him  his  life  and  his  work  were  nearly  over  : 
but  when  Donne,  his  brother  "  Apostle,"  also  wrote 
he  rephed :  "  I  thank  you  most  gratefully  for  your 
kind  and  candid  note.  It  is  a  very  great  pleasure, 
a  greater  pleasure  than  I  ever  looked  for,  to  have  been 
so  treated  by  the  University,  but  the  welcome  which 
my  friends  have  given  me  on  my  appointment  has 
been  more  to  me  than  the  Chair  itself.  I  do  not 
know  when  I  have  had  so  much  kindness  shown  me, 


224        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

though   I  have   had  a  very  unusual   and  undeserved 
share  of  it  at  all  times." 

It  is  difficult  in  these  days  to  reconstruct  in  any 
way  the  interest,  the  glamour,  or  the  fascination  that 
Maurice  had  for  the  men  of  his  time.  If  one  writes 
of  him  now,  somewhat  unenthusiastically,  it  is  because 
one  is  angered  to  find  with  his  great  gifts  he  did  not 
do  more  ;  but  there  seem  to  have  been  few  in  his 
own  time  but  felt  the  attraction  of  his  presence  and 
the  high  superiority  of  his  mind.  He  was  ideally 
handsome,  with  a  beauty  of  the  highest  order,  which 
he  never  reckoned  as  a  contributing  cause  to  his  success 
as  a  preacher  ;  he  had  a  melodious  voice  and  a  flow  of 
good  words,  but  he  was  never  merely  the  orator ;  mat- 
ter he  placed  always  before  manner  ;  and  if  his  voice 
trembled  when  he  spoke,  it  was  from  the  force  of  his 
own  sincere  convictions  and  from  no  cultivated  affec- 
tation. Milnes  once  said  to  Gladstone :  "I  wish 
you  had  mentioned  Maurice  in  your  estimate  of 
preachers — to  me  it  was  more  apostoHc  than  any- 
thing I  ever  heard."  As  a  fashionable  preacher,  he 
was  pursued  and  teased  in  the  ordinary  way  ;  and 
he  had,  even  amongst  his  own  disciples,  those  who 
pointed  out  to  him  new  lines  of  thought  as  well  as 
new  routes  to  follow.  For  years  he  held  and  domin- 
ated a  large  affectionate  public,  all  wilhng  to  be  led 
— he  willing  to  lead.  An  earnest,  tender  soul,  no  one 
doubted  his  spirituahty.  Kingsley's  idea  of  him  was 
no  doubt  the  correct  one :  "  His  humihty  was  carried 
to  an  extreme  ;  unaware  of  his  own  intellectual  and  his 


FREDERICK    DENISON    MAURICE       225 

own  practical  and  governing  power,  he  would  submit 
at  times  when  he  ought  to  have  ruled,  or  listen  when 
he  ought  to  have  commanded."  He  had  a  protective 
personality.  He  took  under  his  wing  the  poor,  the 
sick,  the  oppressed,  and  women  ;  to  all  of  these  he 
gave  out  all  he  had  of  sympathy  and  assistance  ;  he  was 
also  a  warm  supporter  of  female  suffrage.  In  fact  to 
women  Maurice's  courtesy  and  consideration  was  as 
chivalrous  as  it  was  unstinted.  His  patience  was 
beautiful,  his  acceptance  of  them  as  equal  with  himself 
in  brain,  and  in  all  organizing  mental  capacity,  one 
of  those  confidences  which  led  to  the  greater  freedom 
of  women,  and  to  their  bettered  position  to-day. 

When  he  died  all  England  felt  the  jar  caused  by  the 
cutting  away  of  so  tenacious  and  earnest  a  personality, 
those  who  had  disagreed  with  him  as  well  as  those  who 
had  agreed.  Edward  W.  Tait,  one  of  his  disciples, 
in  one  of  his  charming  letters,  says — and  he  expressed 
the  opinion  of  all  Maurice's  followers — "  I  feel  as  if  I 
had  lost  a  second  father  in  losing  Maurice  out  of  this 
world.  ...  I  owe  more  to  Maurice,  I  think,  than  to 
any  one  else.  There  was  a  requisition  that  he  should 
be  buried  in  Westminster  Abbey,  but  according  to  his 
own  wish  he  was  buried  quite  quietly  with  his  own 
kindred  at  Highgate.  I  went  to  the  funeral,  and  the 
simplicity  and  solemnity  of  it  I  shall  never  forget. 
After  the  service  was  ended,  some  men  and  women 
of  the  Working  Men's  College,  which  he  had  formed 
and  over  which  he  had  watched  for  so  long,  sang  two 

or  three  hymns — very  badly  but  all  the  more  impres- 

15— (2318) 


226        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

sively — ending  with  'Abide  with  Me/  in  which  every- 
body joined.  Nothing  could  have  been  more  truly 
grand  and  appropriate  than  these  simple  people  sing- 
ing their  songs  of  faith  and  hope  in  a  quiet  corner  of  a 
common  cemetery  over  the  grave  of  the  great  teacher 
whose  lessons,  taught  gently  and  quietly  to  all  men 
alike  as  his  brothers,  have  in  them  the  power  which 
will  presently  reform  this  country  of  England,  and 
through  it,  largely,  the  whole  world." 


CHAPTER  XI 

RICHARD   MONCKTON   MILNES 

Friends. 

Keep,  oh  !    keep  your  Paradise  ! 
Once  I  gained  your  happy  place. 
Ardent  in  the  healthy  race. 
One  of  many  braced  together, 
Comrades  of  the  way  and  weather. 

(Richard  Monckton  Milnes.) 

Among  the  lights  of  those  days,  some  shot  their  beams 
farther  than  others,  some  were  steadier  and  some 
purer  ;  but  the  most  brilliant  luminary  of  them  all 
was  undoubtedly  Richard  Monckton  Milnes.  His 
social  advantages  were  exceptional,  and  his  amazing 
and  delightful  personality  enabled  him  to  avail  him- 
self of  them  to  the  fullest  extent.  He  had  high  ability 
and  wide  ideas,  the  former  of  which  enabled  him  to 
fascinate  and  bewilder  the  world  with  the  originality 
of  the  latter.  His  earliest  recorded  expression  was 
eminently  characteristic,  when,  as  a  child,  he  first  saw 
the  open  sea,  and  vehemently  proclaimed  his  rage  and 
disappointment  that  it  was  not  bigger.  From  his 
youth  up  he  displayed  a  virile  self-confidence  ;  he 
never  doubted  his  own  powers.  "  I  must  work  my 
own  way  unpatronized,  or  not  at  all,"  was  the  motto 
of  a  satisfied  and  independent  mind. 


228        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

Although  his  education  had  been  in  private  hands, 
he  was  fairly  well  equipped  when  he  arrived  at  Trinity 
College,  Cambridge,  in  1827.  His  mother  went  with 
him,  arranged  his  books  in  their  shelves,  and  wistfully 
watched  him  from  a  gallery  at  his  first  dinner  in  Hall. 
"  He  sat  by  Wordsworth  "  (Master  of  Trinity),  ''  and 
seemed  as  much  at  home  amongst  the  dons  as  if  he 
had  been  there  for  years." 

Milnes,  overjoyed  to  get  to  College,  and  enthusiastic 
about  his  surroundings,  flung  himself  at  once  into  the 
spirit  of  the  place.     In  those  days  the  aristocracy— 
and   plutocracy— were   wont   to   become   what   were 
called  "Fellow-Commoners,"   a  privileged  sect  (that 
against  which  Lushington  fulminated)  who  enjoyed,  by 
paying  for  them,  sundry  indulgences  and  exemptions, 
and  who  inspired  their  humbler  fellow-students  with 
awe  and  envy.     But  since  Thackeray  gave  his  own 
special  significance  to  the  word  "  snob,"  and  caused  a 
social  revolution,  especially  at  his  old  University,  by 
the  dehghtful  book  in  which  he  illustrated  his  defini- 
tion, the  Golden  Calf  has  gradually  lost  many  of  its 
worshippers     at     Cambridge,     until    nowadays    both 
"  Fellow-Commoners  "  and  "  Sizars  "—the  high  priests 
and  the  servers  of  the  cw//^— have  ceased  to  be.     It 
was,  however,  in  the  natural  order  of  things,  as  they 
then  existed,  that  Milnes  should  become  a  "  Fellow- 
Commoner."     It  was  some  royal  blood  on  his  mother's 
side  which  gave  him  a  claim  to  this  advantage,  and 
it  was  his  father's  blood  which  gave  him  a  taste  for  it. 
It  was  a  position,  said  a  fellow  "Apostle,"  "which 


■  "  \ 

Richard  Monckion  Milncs 


RICHARD    MONCKTON    MILNES         229 

enabled  young  men  who  were  capable  of  it  to  profit 
by  the  conversation  of  Dons." 

When  Tennyson  saw  Milnes  for  the  first  time,  he 
said  he  thought  him  the  most  good-humoured  and 
the  best-tempered  creature  he  had  ever  seen,  and  "  a 
man  I  should  like  to  know";  while  Arthur  Hallam 
said  he  was  "  one  of  our  aristocracy  of  intellect  here, 
a  kind-hearted  fellow,  as  well  as  a  clever  one,  but  vain 
and  paradoxical."  It  was  perhaps  youthful  vanity 
which  prompted  him  to  write,  on  the  subject  of  his 
height,  'Tray  console  my  mother  about  my  growth 
by  Lord  Monson  being  a  head  less  than  I  am  ;  Grattan 
and  Fox  were  both  little  men,  and  so  was  St.  Paul," 
but  it  was  far  more  probably  a  little  audacious 
banter. 

After  he  and  his  fellow-freshmen  had  joined  the 
"  Union  Debating  Society,"  where  "  a  Mr.  Sterling 
told  us  we  were  going  to  have  a  revolution,  and  he 
didn't  care  if  his  hand  should  be  the  first  to  lead  the 
way,"  it  was  found  that  Milnes  had  some  power  of 
speaking  in  him  if  he  would  "  cultivate  it  well,"  and 
that  he  was  "  as  ambitious  as  was  reasonable  " — 
these  were  Hallam's  opinions.  "  What  a  rare  thing 
is  a  grown-up  mind! "  said  Milnes  of  Hallam  in  return. 

On  the  occasion  of  the  Shelley  v.  Byron  mission  in 
1829  to  Oxford,  Milnes,  when  he  asked  leave  to  go  on 
that  errand,  did  not  feel  it  his  duty  to  be  clear  as  to 
whether  it  were  the  poet  Wordsworth  or  the  poet  Shelley 
whose  glory  was  the  object  of  the  deputation  ;  and  he 
afterwards,  in  his  candid  fashion,  said,  "  I  may  per- 


230        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

haps  have  impUed  it  was  the  former.  ...  I  wanted 
to  see  the  place  and  the  men  ...  we  drove  manfully 
through  the  snow  .  .  .  arrived  in  time  to  speak  that 
night  .  .  .  feted  next  day.  Saw  the  lions — and  came 
back  next  morning." 

He  had,  with  several  of  his  contemporaries,  the 
sort  of  genius  which  does  not  lend  itself  to  competi- 
tion, yet,  on  one  occasion  when  he  fancied  he  had 
failed  to  excel  in  an  examination,  we  find  this  self- 
possessed  young  worldling — paradoxical  even  in  his 
emotions — flinging  himself  upon  a  sofa  in  an  agony 
of  tears.  It  subsequently  turned  out  he  had  done 
better  than  he  had  imagined. 

There  is  no  doubt  that  he  loved  advertisement ; 
there  are  many  men,  not  merely  politicians  or  soldiers, 
but  men  with  exalted  poetical  natures,  to  whom  life 
is  savourless  without  the  sauce  of  reclame.  But  the 
extravagance  of  some  of  his  juvenile  pranks  was  due 
less  to  any  vulgar  desire  to  attract  attention  than  to 
the  whimsicality  of  his  inclinations.  He  had  a  natural 
desire  to  judge  of  everything  by  personal  investiga- 
tion. His  thirst  for  a  new  experience  took  him  even 
up  in  a  balloon — in  days  when  aerial  travellers  were 
few.  While  floating  in  the  air  on  that  occasion  he 
wrote  a  rapturous  letter  to  Arthur  Hallam,  to  which 
his  sober  friend  replied,  "I  had  been  sceptical  all  along  as 
to  your  possessing  physical  courage  enough  to  venture." 
Milnes  had  a  high  appreciation  of  Hallam's  genius, 
and  complains  in  a  letter,  "  I  do  not  see  Hallam  once 
for  the  twenty  times  I  am  with  Fitzroy  or  O'Brien," 


RICHARD    MONCKTON    MILNES         231 

though  on  another  occasion  he  proudly  begins, 
"  Hallam  is  in  my  great  chair.  ...  I  found  a  sonnet 
from  him  awaiting  me  in  town,  which  ended — 

...  a  sterner  part  assume, 
Whether  thou  championest  Urania's  strife, 
Or,  marked  by  Freedom  for  her  toga'd  sway, 
Reclaim'st  thy  father's  soon  abandoned  bay," 

which  looks  as  if  Arthur  sometimes  endeavoured  to 
tutor  the  gay  and  airy  Milnes  into  sobriety  and  dis- 
cretion. 

Milnes  was  always  amusingly  discursive  about  the 
"  Apostles,"  and  was  a  joy  to  them,  though  some- 
thing of  an  anxiety.  Blakesley,  despite  his  great 
esteem  for  him,  was  of  opinion  that  "  the  Society 
does  not  gain  much  from  him."  "  I  read  an  essay 
on  the  state  of  the  country,  at  a  Society  called  the 
'  Apostles,'  last  Saturday,"  Milnes  wrote  ;  "  I  hurried 
it  too  much  to  be  very  good.  One  party  called  it  too 
metaphysical,  the  other  (the  greater  part)  too  practi- 
cal, but  it  took  altogether  very  well." 

When  he  left  Cambridge  he  had  youthful  romantic 
ambitions,  chiefly  pohtical,  and  with  regard  to  these 
he  sought  the  advice  of  Lady  Morgan,  who  said  to 
him,  "  They  who  would  legislate  for  the  world  must 
live  in  the  world,"  astute  common-sense  which  the 
urbane  Milnes  accepted  with  content.  When  he  went 
down,  as  it  was  not  yet  time  to  start  on  his  pohtical 
career,  he  joined  his  family  abroad,  where  they  were 
living — so  they  alleged — for  economy  ;    though  they 


232        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

appear  to  have  dwelt  in  marble  palaces  and  to  have 
entertained  all  the  illustrious  of  the  land.  Young 
Milnes  wrote  :  "  Cardinal  Weld  has  done  a  beautiful 
drawing  for  mamma ;  he  says  '  It  is  not  much,  but  he 
does  not  think  she  will  find  another  Cardinal  to  do  it 
better.'  " 

The  new  experience  of  travel  and  foreign  surround- 
ings for  the  time  being  drove  politics  from  his  mind, 
and  awoke  in  him  fresh  enthusiasms,  especially  for 
scenery  and  for  all  that  was  beautiful.     "What  is 
Italy  without  Rome  ?     What  Syria  without  Jerusa- 
lem ?     What  Egypt  without  Thebes  and  Alexandria  ?  " 
The  man  who  found  the  "  Cohseum  "  had  "  a  glory 
of  ruin  which  must  be  grander  than  its  first  perfection," 
was  an  artist  as  well  as  a  poet,  but  Milnes  gave  himself 
up  entirely  to  poetry.     His  was  a  genius  which  could 
have  enriched  the  world  through  the  medium  of  any 
art  he  had  chosen  to  espouse;  but  poetry  was  the 
popular  mistress  of  the  hour.     All  his  friends  wrote 
verse,  notably  Tennyson  and  Hallam,  and  could  he 
not    do    the    same  ?    argued    Milnes.     Much    of   his 
poetry  was  written  in  circumstances  illustrative  of  the 
power  of  the  man.     He  would  easily  and  cheerfully 
get  though  any  poetic  task  he  might  set  himself,  and 
produce  a  masterpiece  before  setting  forth  in  pursuit 
of  other  pleasures  ;    and  no  one  ever  Hved  with  a 
greater  capacity  for  pleasure  than  Monckton  Milnes. 
The  first  great  steadying  shock  of  his  young  life 
was  the  death  of  Arthur  Hallam.     He  said— for  he  had 
not  seen  him  for  some  time  before  his  death— 


RICHARD    MONCKTON    MILNES         233 

I  thought,  how  should  I  see  him  first. 
How  should  our  hands  first  meet, 
Within  his  room,  upon  the  stairs — 
At  the  corner  of  the  street  ? 
I  thought,  where  should  I  hear  him  first, 
How  catch  his  greeting  tone  ? 
And  thus  I  went  up  to  his  door. 
And  they  told  me  he  was  gone  ! 

He  mourned  for  Hallam  "  as  for  a  brother  "  : 

For  I  have  lost  the  veriest  friend 
Whom  ever  a  friend  could  name. 

Milnes  had  plenty  of  sympathy  ;  it  was  not  very  deep 
— that  would  be  too  much  to  look  for  in  one  with  such 
a  nature — but  it  was  consistent  and  universal.  The 
death  of  this  young  friend  caused  him  to  lament  "  the 
loss  of  youth/'  and  brought  forth  from  him  poems 
connected  with  life's  young  day,  which  are  some  of 
the  most  charming  and  affecting  of  his  works.  His 
artistic  temperament  made  him  take  delighted  interest 
in  all  that  he  produced  himself.  When  he  got  back 
to  Rome  in  1834,  he  says  ingenuously,  "  I  wish  I  had 
brought  some  copies  of  my  book  here.  It  would  have 
gone  off  immensely.  .  .  .  There  are  here  Garden  and 
Monteith  and  Tirench.  We  are  quite  a  Cambridge 
coterie.''  His  book  went  off  very  well,  and  in  a  way 
to  cheer  him,  though  he  says  it  did  not  sell  at  a 
"  vulgar  rate." 

Macarthy,  a  friend  to  whom  Milnes  always  un- 
bosomed himself,  says  of  this  time  :  "In  the  spring 
of  1834  I  was  one  day  returning  from  one  of  the 
gorgeous  ceremonies  of  Easter  at  St.  Peter's,  in  com- 


234        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

pany  with  Trench  and  Milnes.  Milnes  in  his  red 
military  uniform,  I  in  black  silk  academic  gown,  were 
sauntering  along  the  Tiber.  Trench,  who  came  up 
to  us,  said  in  his  deep  voice,  '  I  was  just  thinking  that, 
after  all,  there  are  but  two  professions  in  the  world 
worth  professing — those  two '  (pointing  to  our 
dresses).  '  Yes,'  said  Milnes,  '  but  we  neither  of  us 
belong  to  them  ;  Macarthy  is  as  much  a  Churchman 
as  I  am  a  soldier,  that  is  to  say,  not  at  all.'  " 

It  was  to  Macarthy,  who  did  not  go  into  the  Church, 
that  Milnes  once  quaintly  observed  :  "  The  thing  I 
was  intended  for  by  nature  is  a  German  woman.  I 
have  just  that  mixture  of  hdusliche  Thdtigkeit  and 
Sentimentalitdt  that  characterizes  that  category  of 
Nature.  I  think  Goethe  would  have  fallen  in  love 
with  me  ;    and  I  am  not  sure  that  Platen  didn't." 

Milnes  believed  in  the  cultivation  of  the  poetic 
faculty,  and  encouraged  youths  to  practise  it,  be- 
Heving  that  it  taught  men  to  "  divide  the  sphere  of 
imagination  from  that  of  practical  life,  and  obviate 
dangers  that  so  often  arise  from  the  want  of  this 
distinction."  "  There  is  no  better  preservative  than 
the  poetic  faculty  from  religious  hallucinations,  from 
political  discussions,  and,  I  would  say,  even  from 
financial  extravagance."  When  he  also  said,  "  The 
greater  portion  of  the  verses  I  have  written  were 
that  product  of  the  lyrical  period  of  youth  ^^•hich  is 
by  no  means  uncommon  among  modern  civihzation,'* 
he  was  writing  at  a  period  when  even  the  young 
"  bucks  "  deemed  it  not  unmanly  to  cultivate  certain 


RICHARD    MONCKTON    MILNES         235 

elegancies  of  mind,  and  when  games  were  frankly 
ranked  as  pastimes,  and  not  as  occupations. 

At  one  time  he  was  looked  on  as  the  successor  to 
the  Laureateship.  Landor,  at  a  breakfast  at  Rogers', 
maintained  that  Milnes  was  the  greatest  poet  then  living 
and  writing  in  England ;  and  he  certainly  had  a 
following  who,  during  the  mid- Victorian  age,  thought 
him  the  poet  of  the  century.  It  is  unquestionable  that 
in  some  of  his  verse  he  reached  great  heights.  Had 
Tennyson  not  come  to  the  fore,  Milnes  would  have  done 
even  greater  things  than  he  did.  But  he  would  not  exert 
himself  against  a  giant  whose  powers  he  admired  so 
much.  When  he  withdrew  gracefully  from  the  hsts,  it 
was  not  in  fear  of  a  possible  conqueror,  but  in  favour  of 
a  popular  aspirant  who  was  also  an  old  friend — one 
whom,  in  his  generosity  of  heart,  he  had  sooner  see 
crowned  than  wear  the  bays  himself.  It  was,  in  fact, 
he  who  recommended  Tennyson  for  the  Laureateship. 
"  I  am  in  no  hurry  to  publish  my  poems  .  .  .  and 
when  the  world's  such  that  Alfred  Tennyson  does  not 
think  it  worth  while  to  write  down  his  compositions, 
there  need  be  no  rash  eagerness  on  my  part." 

In  1844  Milnes  published  a  volume  of  his  works 
with  the  following  dedication :  'To  the  members  of 
*  The  Conversazione  Society  '  established  and  still 
continued  in  the  University  of  Cambridge.  This  edition 
of  *  Poems  of  Many  Years  '  In  gratefid  remembrance  of 
knowledge  communicated,  affection  interchanged,  and 
intelligence  expanded.'*  These  compliments  were 
highly  appreciated  by  the  "  Apostles,"  for  the  Httle 


236        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

book  contains  most  of  his  best  work.  The  following 
passage  from  "  The  Flight  of  Youth  "  is  wonderfully 
reminiscent  of  Sir  Philip  Sydney,  without  being  in 
any  way  a  copy  of  the  soldier-poet  : 

Alas  !    we  know  not  how  he  went, 

We  knew  not  he  was  going, 

For  had  our  tears  once  found  a  vent, 

We  had  stayed  him  with  their  flowing. 

It  was  as  an  earthquake,  when 

We  awoke  and  found  him  gone, 

We  were  miserable  men. 

We  were  hopeless,  every  one  ! 

Yes,  he  must  have  gone  away 

In  his  guise  of  every  day — 

In  his  common  dress,  the  same 

Perfect  face,  and  perfect  frame  ; 

For  in  feature,  for  in  limb 

Who  could  be  compared  to  him  ? 

Recalling  a  walk  in  his  youth,  he  says  : 

.  .  .  with  you  a'strolling  hand  in  hand 
Break  lances  in  a  tournament  of  rhyme — 
Dispute  about  the  tints  of  faery-land — 
Or,  by  some  heritage  which  olden  Time 
Has  left  the  wise, 

Bid  wondrous  pageants,  as  by  sorcerer's  wand, 
Before  us  rise. 

Modern  lovers  of  poetry  should  turn  to  the  works 
of  Monckton  Milnes  ;  unhke  those  of  a  minor  poet, 
they  stand  the  test  of  time  ;  indeed,  the  only  trace 
of  age  they  show  is  scholarship.  He  stands  forth 
pre-eminent  and  for  always  the  Poet  of  Youth. 

How  we  have  joyed,  when  all  our  mind  was  joy, 
How  we  have  loved,  when  love  was  all  our  law, 

Looked  with  half  envy  on  the  rising  boy, 
And  thought  of  manhood  with  religious  awe. 


RICHARD    MONCKTON    MILNES         237 

Perhaps  his  most  beautiful  Hnes  of  all  were  those 
inspired  by  the  verse  :  "  O  that  I  were  as  I  was  in  the 
days  of  my  youth,  when  the  secret  of  God  was  upon 
my  Tabernacle."  But  it  was  his  *'  Palm  Leaves,"  in 
which  he  sings  of  the  East  after  a  romantic  visit 
thither,  which  attracted  the  most  contemporary  notice. 
De  Tocqueville  wrote  :  "  You  seem  to  have  returned 
too  much  the  Mussulman.  I  cannot  make  out  why  in 
these  days  so  many  distinguished  minds  evince  this 
tendency."  Sydney  Smith  said  :  "  Milnes  is  the 
writer  who  sent  out  '  Palm  Leaves  '  which  came  back 
Laurels."  Kinglake  criticized  them  in  the  Quarterly^ 
upon  which  Milnes  affirmed  by  way  of  rejoinder  that 
he  himself,  had  he  chosen,  could  have  written  "  Eo- 
then  " — "  that  is  nearly." 

Although  poetry  was  the  art  he  loved,  he  wrote 
prose  besides.  His  Keats'  Life  and  Literary  Remains 
is  written  and  compiled  with  admirable  tact  and 
artistic  sympathy  ;  and  his  mind  had  lost  none  of  its 
keenness  nor  vivacity  when,  twenty  years  later,  he 
published  his  brilliant  Monographs.  It  is  interesting 
to  learn  from  him  that  he  found  he  wrote  poems  less 
true  in  expression  as  he  began  to  write  prose  more 
easily.  He  contributed  to  the  principal  magazines  and 
reviews  ;  he  was  also  the  author  of  numerous  pam- 
phlets, of  which  one  of  the  most  earnest  and  serious 
was  his  One  Tract  More.  This  he  wrote  under  the  nam 
de  plume  "  A  Layman,"  and  in  it  he  says  : 

"  Persecution  was  a  refusal  to  recognize  religions  on 
the  part  of  those  who  acknowledged  secular  authority. 


238        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

It  was  in  this  theory  of  the  Church  of  England  that  the 
Continental  Protestants  nicknamed  it '  Parliament  faith ' 
— and  that  Melancthon  maintains  that  the  German 
Lutherans  named  those  who  had  suffered  for  the  re- 
formed cause  in  England  the  Devil's  Martyrs." 

The  whole  tract  was  a  fine  piece  of  special  pleading, 
and  it  was  much  praised  by  his  friends.  For  Milnes 
made  no  concealment  of  his  eagerness  to  hear  what 
people  thought  of  his  work,  and  whenever  he  published 
anything  fresh  he  would  go  the  round  of  friends  and 
acquaintances  to  hear  their  opinions  and  enjoy  their 
congratulations. 

Milnes  had  always  strong  Catholic  leanings.  At 
Cambridge,  while  many  of  his  friends  were  for  a  time 
under  the  spell  of  the  German  philosophers,  he  was 
never  attracted  by  their  unlovely  dogmas.  And  no 
doubt  during  his  sunny  holidays  in  Rome  his  imagina- 
tion must  have  been  still  further  stimulated  by  the 
graceful  emblems  and  magnificent  monuments  which 
surrounded  him.  Had  he,  like  most  of  his  "  Apos- 
tolic "  contemporaries,  had  the  habit  of  serious  intro- 
spection, he  would  probably  have  found  he  was  already 
in  his  heart  what  his  mind  inclined  him  to  be.  But 
the  paradoxical  Milnes  was  always  least  serious  when 
contemplating  most  serious  subjects.  However  the 
teetotum  of  his  mind  might  vacillate  as  it  spun,  it  always 
fell  finally  light  side  up.  He  was  one  of  the  first  to 
subscribe  himself  an  **  English  Catholic."  "  These  are 
'  shocking '  bad  times  for  me,"  he  once  remarked  in 
early  days  ;    "  but  a  liberal-minded  English  Catholic 


RICHARD    MONCKTON    MILNES         239 

would  be  a  great  game  to  play  in  Rome,  if  he  had  wit 
or  will  enough."  His  friend  O'Brien  at  the  same 
period  said  to  him  :  "  It  is  a  pity  you  have  no  faith; 
now  that  we  are  all  settling  down  in  faith,  you  ought 
not  to  go  on  frittering  your  fine  talents  and  good  heart 
on  things  that  win  you  neither  respect  nor  love."  It 
was  this  gentleman  who  told  Milnes,  "  You  are  near 
something  very  glorious,  but  you  will  never  reach  it," 
and  he  was  something  of  a  prophet. 

On  occasions  Milnes  would  write  thoughtfully  on  theo- 
logical questions  :  as  for  instance  when  he  comments  on 
the  singular  fact  that  both  Gospel  and  Church  should 
be  silent  on  the  matter  of  the  re-union  of  living  souls 
after  death.  "  If  the  bond  of  affection  be  in  itself 
indissoluble,  there  must  be  sameness  if  not  a  unity  of 
destination  for  souls  which  are  thus  banded  ;  and  how 
is  this  irreconcilable  with  the  adjustment  of  spiritual 
differences,  to  say  nothing  of  awards  and  punishments  ? 
Can  we  conceive  a  soul  at  once  enjoying  intellectual 
communion  with  the  wise  Heathen,  affectionate  com- 
munion with  the  object  of  its  earthly  love,  and  spiritual 
communion  with  Christ  and  the  Saints  ?  " 

But  if  others  discussed  religious  matters  in  a  serious 
manner,  it  was  rare  for  Milnes  to  take  his  tone  from 
them.  On  one  occasion,  when  some  of  the  more  pon- 
derous-minded of  his  fellow  "  Apostles  "  were  sitting 
in  solemn  conclave  upon  one  of  Dr.  Pusey's  Oxford 
sermons,  and  by  dint  of  serious  thought  and  analytical 
argument  were  arriving  slowly — and  most  of  them 
reluctantl}^ — at  the  conclusion  that  it  was  to  be  pro- 


240        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

scribed,  Milnes  entirely  changed  the  tone  of  the  dis- 
cussion (to  the  scandal  of  his  graver  hearers)  by 
jauntily  suggesting  that  the  sermon  undoubtedly 
deserved  to  be  condemned — for  its  length. 

In  politics  he  displayed  an  amount  of  orderliness 
and  method,  a  quickness  and  firmness  of  grasp,  a 
power  of  rapidly  unravelling  complications  and  imme- 
diately placing  every  fact  in  its  proper  mental  pigeon- 
hole, hardly  to  be  expected  in  so  volatile  a  nature. 
He  knew  by  instinct  the  way  to  the  back-stairs  of 
politics,  and  the  secret  thoughts  and  schemes  of  poh- 
ticians,  and  he  had  such  discretion — another  unex- 
pected virtue — that  he  could  chat  on  international 
questions  with  kings  and  diplomats  and  gossip  around 
state  secrets,  apparently  without  reserve,  and  yet 
without  betraying  a  hint  which  could  possibly  strain 
relations. 

When  he  stood  for  Pontefract  as  a  Conservative,  his 
triumph,  which  was  signal,  was  hailed  with  delight  by 
his  friends,  who,  as  they  did  not  hesitate  to  tell  him, 
did  not  till  the  last  moment  know  the  colour  of  his 
pontics.  He  tried  hard  and  ingeniously  to  maintain 
an  independent  position,  an  attitude  which  often 
brought  down  abuse  upon  him  and  caused  his  consti- 
tuents sometimes  to  doubt  his  good  faith.  He  did  not 
take  politics  so  lightly  as  he  took  other  interests.  To 
become  a  great  statesman  was  the  one  serious  end  of 
his  ambitions,  and  he  devoted  himself  to  its  achieve- 
ment with  heart  and  soul.  But  although  he  had  the 
quahfications  of  a  great  diplomatist,  he  had  not  the 


RICHARD    MONCKTON    MILNES         241 

temperament  of  a  successful  politician.  Artist  to  the 
finger-tips,  he  could  never  have  become  anything  so 
bourgeois  as  a  party  leader.  Gradually  he  reahzed 
that  the  parhamentary  boat  was  not  one  in  which  he 
was  destined  to  occupy  his  favourite  and  usual  thwart 
— that  of  stroke  ;  in  fact  he  found  that  it  was  a  galley 
in  which  he  had  no  particular  place  at  all.  Peel  re- 
fused him  the  part  of  Under-Secretary  for  Foreign 
Affairs,  and  this  no  doubt  hipped  him  and  influenced 
him  to  some  extent  in  his  experiment  of  a  change  of 
pohtics.  When  Peel's  course  of  action  was  being  dis- 
cussed and  criticized  at  The  Grange,  Carlyle  exclaimed  : 
"  No,  no  ;  Peel  knows  what  he  is  about.  There  is  only 
one  fit  post  for  you,  Milnes ;  and  that  is  the  Office  of 
Perpetual  President  of  the  Heaven  and  Hell  Amalga- 
mation Society."  During  the  same  house  party  Lady 
Ashburton,  on  being  told  there  was  a  rumour  that 
Milnes  had  accepted  some  Colonial  appointment,  ex- 
claimed, "  I  hope  not ;  we  shall  have  no  one  to  show  us 
what  we  ought  7iot  to  do  and  say." 

He  never  forgave  his  father  for  refusing  a  peerage 
that  was  offered  to  him.  "  I  think  that  the  severe 
dullness  of  the  House  of  Lords,  which  Lord  Grey  used 
to  call  '  speaking  to  dead  men  by  torchlight,'  would 
have  suited  my  nervous  temperament."  And  when 
Strutt  refused  a  peerage  he  said,  "  The  disease  seems 
catching  ;  and  if  the  Lords  cannot  be  recruited  either 
from  the  Conservative  or  the  Democratic  side,  what 
will  they  come  to  ?  "     Luckily  for  his  peace  of  mind, 

he  died  unenlightened. 
16— (2318) 


242        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

Milnes  helped  towards  the  bringing  in  of  the  Copy- 
right Bill,  and  was  great  on  liberty  of  conscience.  Of 
the  clever  things  he  said,  he  never,  perhaps,  surpassed 
"  Gladstone's  method  of  impartiality  is  being  furi- 
ously earnest  on  both  sides  of  the  question."  He  was 
in  sympathy  with  the  Suffrage  for  Women,  and  led  the 
movement  for  the  legislation  of  Marriage  with  a  De- 
ceased Wife's  Sister,  questions  on  which  feeling  still 
runs  high.  As  an  instance  of  wasted  enthusiasm,  the 
story  may  be  told  parenthetically  of  a  young  marquis 
of  a  later  period  who  left  a  houseful  of  guests  and 
travelled  a  ten  hours'  journey  to  oppose  the  Deceased 
Wife's  Sister  Bill  in  the  Lords.  "  You  don't  often  put 
yourself  out  like  this  on  your  country's  behalf,"  ob- 
served a  club  acquaintance.  "  Ah  !  but  this  is  a  case 
when  one's  hound  to  put  one's  self  out  a  bit,"  replied 
the  young  peer.  ''  Ido  think  it'll  be  an  infernal  shame 
if  they  obhge  a  chap  to  marry  his  Deceased  Wife's 
Sister — if  he  don't  want  to." 

"  A  Bird  of  Paradox,"  according  to  Mrs.  Norton, 
the  "  Cool  of  the  Evening  "  and  "  London  Assurance  " 
to  the  rest  of  the  world,  Milnes  with  all  his  persiflage 
had  a  high  sense  of  his  own  dignity.  He  challenged 
his  man  when  he  found  himself  insulted  ;  arranged  a 
fight ;  was  furious  at  receiving  an  apology,  and  loudly 
lamented  that  duelling  could  not  again  be  legahzed. 

Milnes  loved  the  society  of  the  clever  and  the  great, 
but  he  was  neither  a  patron  nor  a  parasite.  He  had 
the  **  Liberty-Equality-Fraternity  "  temperament  of 
every  true  artist,  and  always  had  the  power  of  feeling 


RICHARD    MONCKTON    MILNES         243 

at  his  ease  and  of  conveying  the  same  sense  to  others. 
In  fact,  though  he  preferred  his  Bohemians  in  fine — or 
at  all  events,  clean — linen,  he  was  happy  in  any  com- 
pany, high  or  low,  provided  it  were  interesting.     His 
parties  were  always  discreetly  assorted  ;   the  guest-list 
was  ever  a  work  of  art  like  the  menu  ;  he  believed  in 
mixing  like  with  like  ;  he  would  invite  the  gay  to  meet 
the  lively,  the  grave  the  serious  ;   every  one  who  went 
to  his  house  was  usually  sure  to  meet  company  in 
which  he  could  shine.     He  used  to  say,  "  Other  people 
give  their  friends  bread.     I  like  to  give  them  cake." 
At  his   breakfasts — where    '*  the   gods   gathered  like 
flies  " — he  always  took  care  to  have  a  goodly  sprinkling 
of  Cambridge  intimates  to   diffuse  the  conversation 
and  to  break  up  the  "  monologues  of  Smith  and  Mac- 
aulay."     Milnes  always  maintained  that  he  looked  on 
the  "  intimate  and  independent  conversation  of  im- 
portant men  as  the  cream  of  life."     He  was  a  man  of 
"sensibility  "  in  the  sense  in  which  the  older  dramatists 
use  the  term ;  he  would  have  liked  to  have  gone  about 
discovering  and  fostering  newly-hatched  genius — but 
not  having  the  time  nor  perseverance  for  that,  collected 
around  him  the  full-fledged  specimens,  who  flocked  to 
his  call.     He  used  to  say,  "  It  is  not  the  amount  of 
genius  or  moral  power   expended,  but  concentrated, 
that  makes  what   the  world  calls  a  great   man  ;   the 
world  never  sees  a  man  but  in  one  capacity." 

Sydney  Smith,  who  once  wished  Milnes  *'  many 
long  and  hot  dinners  with  lords  and  ladies,  wits  and 
poets,"  was  present  at  the  breakfast  when  Milnes  told 


244        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

how  ''George  IV.  in  latter  years  used  to  speak  as  if 
he  had  been  present  at  certain  great  fox-hunts,  battles 
and  the  like.  Some  distinguished  foreigner  being  at 
Belvoir  when  the  king  was  there,  his  majesty  had 
thoroughbreds  sent  from  the  royal  stables  for  the 
foreigner  and  himself,  and  gave  the  former  his  choice. 
When  the  day  came,  the  king  never  left  his  chamber, 
but  for  long  afterwards  he  would  talk  of  the  splendid 
run  they  had  had,  and  how  he  was  the  only  one  in  at 
the  death !  So  in  the  presence  of  the  Duke  of 
Wellington,  George  IV.  spoke  of  the  charge  he  had  led 
at  Vittoria  !  After  a  dinner  with  the  king,  some  one 
once  asked  the  duke,  '  What  does  all  this  mean  ?  ' 
*  Oh,'  answered  the  duke,  *  partly  madness  and  partly 
the  habit  of  lying.'  " 

Of  the  curious  range  of  Milnes'  mind,  it  is  only 
necessary  to  note  how  easily  he  could  turn  from 
poetry  to  politics  and  from  pohtics  to  palmistry.  It 
is  remarkable  to  find  a  man  of  such  shrewd  good  sense 
saying :  "  This  thunderous  weather  has  made  me 
nervously  electrical ;  I  could  see  the  sparks  coming 
out  of  my  fingers  in  the  dark.  I  am  going  to  see  the 
somnambulist  Alexis  this  afternoon." 

In  breakfasts,  as  in  everything  else,  Milnes  wished 
to  be  first.  "  Old  Rogers  lives  and  goes  on  break- 
fasting, but  is  a  good  deal  estranged  from  me  :  I 
rather  think  he  is  the  loser  by  it,"  he  observed,  with 
cheerful  and  characteristic  effrontery;  while  of  an 
aunt  he  said,  "  She  wants  to  give  breakfasts  like 
mine,  but  the  one  last   week  was  quite  a  failure," 


RICHARD    MONCKTON    MILNES         245 

On  one  occasion  a  son  of  Garibaldi  called  upon  him 
and  sent  up  his  card  at  a  moment  when  Milnes  was 
entertaining  a  party  of  CathoHcs  of  high  rank.  The 
gentleman  was  not  admitted,  and  the  distinguished 
prelates  were  not  informed  of  his  visit.  "  If  they  had 
met,"  said  Milnes,  "  what  a  confirmation  it  would 
have  been  of  the  wildest  stories  of  my  parties."  To 
no  one  but  the  cosmopohtan-minded  Milnes  could 
such  an  incident  have  occurred.  A  vast  volume 
might  be  compiled  of  Milnes'  obiter  dicta.  The  light 
heart  that  could  say,  "  I  rather  think  of  six  weeks 
of  Berlin  this  winter,  to  rub  up  my  German  and 
see  whether  the  king  is  a  humbug,"  belonged  of 
right  to  the  person  who  broke  his  ankle  "  dancing 
a  cachuka  on  a  green  Alp  that  was  not  meant  for 
it,"  and  who  was  in  the  habit  of  saying  "  fresh 
country  air  and  exercise  gave  him  more  indigestion 
and  uncomfortableness  than  London  dinners  and 
doziness." 

Previous  to  a  masked  ball  at  Buckingham  Palace, 
Milnes  was  heard  to  say  he  intended  to  go  to  it  as 
old  Chaucer.  Wordsworth  was  seventy-five,  but  he 
was  also  going.  When  told  of  the  younger  man's 
intention,  he  exclaimed,  "  If  Richard  Milnes  goes  to 
the  Queen's  ball  in  the  character  of  Chaucer,  it  only 
remains  for  me  to  go  in  the  character  of  Richard 
Milnes."  **  You  are  a  man  of  large  heart,"  said  Lady 
Waldegrave  to  Milnes  at  this  same  ball.  **  That  may 
be,  but  it's  not  near  so  useful  as  a  narrow  mind,"  he 
sighed. 


246        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

Milnes  made  Carlyle  so  welcome  to  his  house  that 
he  called  going  there  "  seeing  the  felicity  of  hfe." 
Brookfield  always  said  he  never  could  decide  which 
he  liked  best  in  Milnes,  "  his  diabolical  good  humour, 
or  his  charitable  heart."  He  did  not  always  approve 
of  Milnes'  friends,  though,  and  he  once  records  in  his 
diary  :  ''  Dined  en  gargon  with  Milnes  at  i6.  Brook 
Street;  Albert  Smith,  Wigan,  Kinglake,  Corry,  Har- 
court,  C.  Villiers.  For  a  wonder,  not  a  successful 
mixture  nor  very  agreeable.  Smith  coarse  to  a 
degree.  Acquiescent  recognition  of  the  worse  pro- 
fligacy as  a  matter  of  course  was  sickening.  Home 
at  10.30." 

Carlyle's  protective  patronage  over  Milnes'  writing 
was  as  beautiful  as  it  was  quaint.  "  You  will  write 
a  book  one  day  which  we  shall  all  like,"  he  said  to 
him  after  his  article  on  "  Emerson."  "  In  prose  it 
shall  be,  if  I  may  vote.  A  novel,  an  emblematic 
picture  of  English  society  as  it  is  !  Done  in  prose, 
with  the  spirit  of  a  poet,  what  a  book  were  that !  " 
And  on  another  occasion  he  says,  "  Milnes  has  open 
eyes  for  genius,  and  reverence  for  it."  Some  one 
compared  the  friendship  between  the  two  as  "a 
combat  between  the  Secutor  and  Retiarius  of  the 
Roman  arena."  Milnes,  giving  back  praise  for  praise, 
says,  in  speaking  of  the  historian's  lectures,  "  Carlyle's 
personality  is  most  attractive.  There  he  stands, 
simple  as  a  child,  and  his  happy  thought  dances  on 
his  lips  and  in  his  eyes,  and  takes  word  and  goes 
away,  and  he  bids  it  God-speed  whatever  it  be." 


RICHARD    MONCKTON    MILNES         247 

When  Milnes  was  made  a  peer,  his  friends  were  all 
of  them  genuinely  delighted,  though  Greville  com- 
ments somewhat  carpingly,  "  Monckton  Milnes  has 
obtained  the  object  of  his  ambition  and  is  created  a 
peer  by  the  title  of  Lord  Houghton.  People  in  general 
are  rather  provoked  at  his  elevation,  but  he  is  a 
very  good  fellow,  and  I  am  glad  he  is  made  happy." 
It  was  said,  d  propos  of  Milnes'  invariable  success 
in  getting  where  he  wished,  "It  is  to  be  hoped  that 
our  Richard  will  have  the  legitimate  entree  to  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven  ;  but  if  not,  he  will  certainly 
hustle  St.  Peter  to  get  a  good  place  in  spite  of  him." 

Lord  Houghton  was  sent  by  the  Government  to 
Paris  in  1867,  as  one  of  the  jurors  of  the  Exhibition 
there,  and  there  he  was  retained  as  President  of  the 
group  of  the  liberal  Arts.  Before  leaving  England, 
he  wrote  to  Brookfield,  who  was  already  in  Paris,  that 
he  was  about  to  arrive  and  would  be  obliged  if 
"  Brooks  "  would  inform  several  ladies  whom  they 
both  knew,  and  whom  he  knew  would  like  to  exercise 
their  hospitalities  upon  him,  that  he  was  coming — 
Madame  Mohl  being  one  of  these.  When  he  reached 
Paris  he  notes,  "  I  dined  yesterday  with  Madame 
Mohl — quite  a  crack  intellectual  party.  Brookfield 
came  in  the  evening  ;  he  is  librarian  to  the  British 
part  of  the  Exposition,  and  is  lodged  and  fed  at  the 
expense  of  the  country."  It  was  during  this  Paris 
visit,  at  another  party — given  by  a  lady  who  shall  be 
nameless — that  Madame  Mohl,  Lord  Houghton  and 
Brookfield,  all  of  them  used  to  good  living,  found  that. 


24^        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES'' 

though  the  generous  spirit  of  the  hostess  was  doubtless 
strong,  her  judgment  in  clarets  was  weak.  Madame 
Mohl,  as  she  raised  a  glass  of  somewhat  stjrptic  St. 
Julien  to  her  lips,  murmured  to  her  old  friends,  who 
were  on  either  side  of  her,  "  A  little  unkind  that  we 
should  be  asked,  at  our  time  of  life,  to  put  new  wine 
into  old  bottles." 

Nothing  could  exceed  the  completeness  and  well- 
roundedness  of  Milnes'  charm.  His  very  effrontery  had 
an  irresistible  attraction  about  it.  He  dehghted  his 
contemporaries  and  delighted  in  them.  He  was  a  man 
of  humour  who  humorously  studied  himself  as  well  as 
all  the  world,  and  was  well  satisfied  with  the  result. 
He  invariably  treated  himself  as  he  would  a  pleasant 
acquaintance.  Of  humour,  of  which  he  was  past- 
master,  he  said,  "  You  may  generally  divide  the  good- 
ness of  your  joke  by  the  number  of  your  auditors.  A 
joke  good  enough  for  half  a  dozen  people  will  be  too 
good  for  one  hundred  ;  you  must  coarsen  your  humour 
for  the  House  of  Commons  or  for  any  other  mob." 
He  would  certainly  say  things  which  no  one  else  could 
say — as  when  he  told  the  Prince  Consort  that  he  and 
himself  were  the  "  best  after-dinner  speakers  in 
England." 

Venables,  a  man  of  weight,  in  speaking  of  his  friend, 
said,  "  Monckton  Milnes,  whose  rare  faculty  of  com- 
bining universality  with  concentration  in  his  social 
relations  has  enabled  him  to  outnumber,  with  the 
catalogue  of  his  genuine  friends,  any  ordinary  list  of 
common    acquaintances."     For    one    thing,    he    was 


RICHARD    MONCKTON    MILNES         249 

always  more  prepared  to  make  friends  than  most 
people  ;  his  native  bonhomie,  which,  as  some  one  once 
said,  "  made  every  one  better  tempered  directly  he 
entered  a  room/'  made  him  alert  at  all  times  and  in 
all  circumstances,  to  extend  his  circle.  With  regard 
to  one  close  associate,  he  humorously  remarked,  "  And 
no  wonder  we  were  friends,  for  we  had  once  found 
ourselves  in  a  moral  quarantine  together." 

His  remarkable  qualities  would  have  enabled  him  to 
have  done  far  more  than  he  actually  accomplished,  had 
a  great  lasting  fame  been  his  ambition.  A  man  who 
took  such  an  active  interest  in  men  and  affairs  that  he 
went  late  in  life  to  America  and  to  Egypt,  and  enjoyed 
in  those  countries  the  new  scenes  and  the  new  people 
with  all  the  zest  of  youth,  a  man  who  had  himself 
carried  to  a  dinner  party  after  a  horse  accident  the 
previous  week,  was  a  person  whose  vigorous  attach- 
ment to  the  world  commands  admiration,  if  it  does 
not  inspire  imitation.  On  his  seventy-first  birthday 
he  assisted  at  an  "  Apostles'  "  dinner.  There  was  still 
a  group  of  College  contemporaries  to  be  toasted  and 
talked  over ;  Venables,  Spedding,  Tennyson  and 
Trench  were  all  four  still  alive.  A  few  weeks  later  he 
was  at  a  wedding  party,  and,  being  a  Httle  bored  at  a 
request  to  propose  the  health  of  the  bride  and  bride- 
groom, when  he  had  stipulated  he  should  not  be  called 
upon,  he  startled  the  party  by  saying  in  the  course  of 
his  speech  :  "It  would  be  preposterous  in  these 
modem  days  to  wish  the  young  couple  anything  so 
old-fashioned  as  a  long  and  happy  married  life ;    let 


250        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

us  go  with  the  times,  and  wish  them,  at  all  events,  a 
well  adjusted  and  equitable  separation."  Since  this 
very  unexpected  and  unconventional  epithalamium, 
the  fashion  of  wedding-breakfast  speeches  seems 
gradually  to  have  fallen  into  disuse. 

Essentially  a  man  of  Clubs,  he  was  the  life  and  soul 
of  several,  some  of  which  he  had  founded  himself.  In 
later  days  he  hked  especially  to  look  in  at  those  where 
he  was  likely  to  meet  rising  young  politicians,  whose 
courtesies  always  gratified  him.  "  I  like,"  he  said, 
"  the  attention  of  young  M.P.'s  as  an  old  coquette 
does  those  of  the  sons  of  her  former  lovers.  ..."  At 
the  ''  Beefsteak  Club,"  of  which  he  was  to  the  last  a 
popular  member,  he  continued  with  Henry  Kemble 
and  Charles  Brookfield  the  cordial  friendship  he  had 
commenced  with  their  forbears  in  the  old  "  Apostle  " 
days  at  Cambridge. 

When  the  end  of  his  life  was  at  hand  and  he  com- 
menced to  complain  of  being  ill,  Sir  Wemyss  Reid, 
struck  by  his  appearance,  asked  him,  "  What  is  the 
matter  ? "  on  which  he  answered,  "  Death,  that's 
what's  the  matter  with  me  ;  I  am  going  over  to  the 
majority,  and  you  know  I  have  always  preferred  the 
minority."  Joking  until  the  end,  he  said  to  the  same 
friend,  and  when  he  was  suffering  severely  from  the 
fall  upon  his  bedroom  floor  which  ultimately  killed 
him,  "  he  had  dreamed  of  being  pursued  by  Mr. 
Gladstone  in  a  hansom  cab,  and  in  his  struggle  to 
escape  from  him,  had  fallen  from  the  bed  to  the  floor." 

He,  more  than  any  of  them,  kept  up  the  spirit  of 


RICHARD    MONCKTON    MILNES         251 

the  College  days  of  the  Cambridge  Apostles,  and  he 
who  enjoyed  the  present  so  candidly  and  undis- 
guisedly  is  he  who  has  left  on  record  that — 

.     The  Past  is  ours, 
And  we  can  build  a  temple  of  rare  thoughts, 
Adorned  with  all  affection's  tracery. 
In  which  to  keep  from  contact  vile  and  rude 
The  grace  of  this  incomparable  Day. 


CHAPTER  XII 

JAMES    SPEDDING 

The  wind,  that  beats  the  mountain,  blows 

More  softly  round  the  open  wold, 
And  gently  comes  the  world  to  those 

That  are  cast  in  gentle  mould. 

And  me  this  knowledge  bolder  makes, 
Or  else  I  had  not  dared  to  flow 
In  these  words  towards  you. 

(Tennyson.) 

It  is  a  testimony  to  the  affectionate  esteem  in  which 
James  Spedding  was  held,  as  well  as  to  his  complacent 
good  humour,  that  each  of  his  intimates  had  a  separate 
sobriquet  for  him.  With  Brookfield  he  was  "  Spedding 
the  Subhme  "  ;  FitzGerald  speaks  of  him  as  "  Old  Jem 
Spedding"  and  as  "My  Sheet- Anchor "  ;  whUe 
Thackeray  entitles  him  "  Jeames  Spending"  and 
"  that  aged  and  most  subtile  serpent." 
^^  Spedding,  an  accomphshed  classical  scholar,  was  an 
"  Apostle  "  of  the  type  dreamed  of  by  the  originators 
of  the  "  Society."  Heartily  respected  and  beloved  by 
his  friends  within  and  without  that  "  body,"  he  had 
the  open  mind,  the  wide  grasp,  the  level  outlook  and 
the  accuracy  of  expression  which  were  the  attributes 


James  Spedding 

Dra-wn  by  himself 


JAMES    SPEDDING  253 

of  the  most  illustrious  of  its  members.  And  though  he 
had  a  strong  sense  of  humour,  it  was  not  of  the  reckless 
and  irresponsible  kind  which  always  alarmed  that  earn- 
est sodality.  Was  he  not  "the  Pope  amongst  the  set," 
according  to  Tennyson  ?  and  did  not  the  bard  further 
confess  that  he  "was  rather  overawed  by  Spedding's 
calm  personality — and  dome"?  Spedding,  it  may  be 
mentioned,  went  bald  quite  early  in  life,  but  his  sweet- 
ness of  temper  permitted  him  to  smile  at  the  bantering 
comments  of  his  contemporaries.  He  was  from  his 
boyhood  a  graceful  writer  of  verse,  and  he  was  the 
fifth  of  this  especial  set  who  took  the  Declamation 
prize.  "  Spedding,"  says  Monteith,  "  has  just  finished 
his  prize  declamation,  which  has  been  greatly  praised. 
Alfred  Tennyson,  talking  of  it  to  Whewell,  observed, 
'*  It  quite  smells  of  Spedding,"  to  which  Whewell 
replied,  **  A  rare  good  thing  to  smell  of,  too." 

When  Tennyson  left  Cambridge,  Spedding  was  one 
of  his  favoured  correspondents,  and  once  he  tells  him 
how  he  is  "  melted  by  the  recollections  of  intehectual 
evening  when  we  sat  smoking,"  and  he  asks  in  the 
same  letter,  "  Is  Brooks  at  Cambridge  ?  To  him  I 
owe  a  letter,  and  I  mean  to  pay  my  debt."  On  another 
occasion  he  sent  him  a  "  sketch  to  move  his  heart," 
while  Spedding,  who  had  a  clever  pencil  (as  well  as 
pen),  retaliated  by  drawing  the  poet  en  deshabille 
during  one  of  his  visits  to  Spedding's  home.  The 
picture  of  himself  in  this  book  is  one  that  he  did  for 
Douglas  Heath,  a  fellow  "Apostle."  It  is  not  a  flatter- 
ing likeness,  but  in  it  we  see  him,  at  all  events,  "  as  he 


254        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

saw  himself."  Spedding's  parents,  **  wise,  tolerant  and 
charitable,"  were  troubled  to  find  their  son  so  much  in 
touch  with  poets  and  poetry,  and  wished,  while  he  was 
at  Cambridge,  that  he  would  turn  his  great  talents  to 
"something  better  than  verse-making."  FitzGerald 
thinks  that  these  parents  "  had  seen  enough  of  poets 
in  Shelley  and  Coleridge  (perhaps  in  Wordsw^orth), 
whom  they  remembered  about  the  lakes."  The  home 
of  the  Speddings  was  in  that  picturesque  neighbour- 
hood, and,  whatever  their  private  sentiments,  they 
were  kind  and  hospitable  to  all  the  many  poets  and 
artists  who  flocked  thither. 

He  was  a  great  correspondent  in  those  early  days, 
and  he  wrote  delightful  letters.  W.  B.  Donne  was  the 
recipient  of  many  of  them,  written  when  both  their 
lives  were  fresh  and  teeming  with  interest. 

"Trinity  College, 

"  October  30,  1831. 
"  My  dear  Donne, — 

"  '  They're  a  mysterious  thing,  is  a  man  !  '  said  a 
friend  of  mine  the  other  day,  and  Solomon  used  to  say 
much  the  same  long  ago,  and,  though  I  meant  not  to 
make  myself  equal  with  Solomon,  so  say  I  now.  If  I 
were  to  tell  you  how  many  times  in  solitude,  and  amid 
the  weary  fret,  unprofitable,  etc.,  in  the  long  vacation, 
my  spirit  has  turned  to  thee,  thou  wanderer  through 
the  world — turned  to  thee,  I  am  ashamed  to  say, 
rather  to  curse  thee  than  otherwise — I  fear  the  staid- 
ness  and  piety  of  my  character  would  sink  in  your 
esteem.  Curse  thee  I  did,  however,  but  write  as 
much  for  that   I  knew  not  where  to   write   to  thee 


JAMES    SPEDDING  255 

myself  as  for  that  thou  wert  slow  to  write  to  me. 
And  yet,  here  have  I  gone  on  for  I  dare  say  three  good 
weeks  of  a  reforming  world,  without  writing  you  a 
line,  without  acknowledging  your  letter,  which  came 
at  last  to  comfort  me,  without  executing  the  distinct 
commission,  nor  answering  the  distinct  question,  for 
which  you  trusted  to  me  unworthy  !  Well !  well ! 
^they're  a  mysterious  thing,  is  a  man,'  and  that  is  the 
conclusion  of  the  whole  matter. 

"  Your  question  concerning  the  society  you  would 
meet  with,  I  can  answer  fully.  In  the  course  of  the 
summer  I  have  seen  a  good  deal  of  various  north- 
country  friends,  and  I  am  not  altogether  so  proud  of 
the  moral  and  intellectual  being  of  my  countrymen  as 
I  used  to  be  from  old  recollections.  If  I  may  generalize 
from  a  few  facts,  I  should  say  that  there  is  in  the 
Cumbrian  character  great  frankness,  openness  and 
honesty,  strong  practical  sense — a  hearty  contempt  for 
humbug  (a  comprehensive  word  and  embracing  all 
that  is  deeper  as  well  as  all  that  is  shallower  than 
current  opinion),  shrewdness  and  eagerness  of  intel- 
lect and  much  dry  humour,  but  withal  a  great 
deficiency  in  depth  and  patience,  and  tranquility  of 
contemplation,  and  those  finer  qualities  which  you 
will  understand  much  better  than  I  can  explain, 
more  especially  if  you  will  think  of  the  blueness  of 
the  Archipelago,  the  name  of  Italy,  and  the  climate 
of  the  South  of  France.  This  I  should  take  to  be  the 
character  of  the  gentry  of  Cumberland,  and  you  will 
perceive  that  it  must  suit  me  much  better  than  it 
would  suit  you.  I  question  whether  you  will  find  any 
men  to  venerate  old  orthography,  or  read  Sir  T. 
Browne  ;  certainly  you  will  find  none  to  kiss  the 
sacred  splinters  of  Chatterton's  box. 

"And  now  I  leave  you  to  draw  your  own  conclusions, 


256        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

engaging  to  furnish  you  with  any  other  information 
which  you  have  the  grace  to  \^Tite  for.  The  chapel 
bell  is  ringing  ;  therefore  I  will  not  now  enter  into 
politics,  wherein  we  somewhat  differ.  Hallam  wishes 
to  remind  you  that  it  is  nine  months  since  he  heard 
from  you,  and  yet  you  have  brought  forth  nothing. 
Hallam  furnished  the  fact ;  the  indecent  allusion,  I 
am  proud  to  say,  is  my  own.  Tennant  desires  me  to 
say  that  he  has  not  written  to  you.  Trench  is  here, 
attending  Divinity  Lectures  and  groaning  over  the 
prospects  of  mankind  ;  he  has  cast  down  the  magni- 
ficent temples  of  Shelleian  religion,  and  his  only  hope 
is  in  a  speedy  millennium,  of  which  he  hails  the  newly 
given  gift  of  unknown  tongues  as  a  forerunner  and 
assurance. 

"  I  was  present,  with  Edward,  at  the  first  pubhc 
exposure  of  this  great  and  growing  grace  ;  Irving  is 
an  old  and  very  great  favourite  of  mine,  and  his 
Christianity  is  after  the  stamp  and  spirit  of  St.  Paul. 
But  he  is  no  logician,  and  the  errors  of  a  deficient 
though  a  most  confident  and  ambitious  logic  are 
sanctified  by  passing  through  his  burnmg  imagination 
into  awful  and  imposing  truths.  There  was  some- 
thing very  noble  in  his  earnestness  of  spirit,  and  elo- 
quence of  the  very  first  order  in  his  exposition.  But 
until  these  new-fangled  tongues  shall  cease,  or  until 
some  miracles  shall  be  manifested  which  are  not 
according  to  the  natural  course  of  things,  I  think 
I  shall  not  go  into  his  church  again,  and  I  grieve 
thereat.  But  these  are  high  matters.  I  shall  con- 
clude with  a  small  poem  which  I  really  think  shows 
true  poetical  power.  There  is  a  sequel  to  it  which  is 
not  so  good.  I  call  the  two  'Before  and  After.'  Perhaps 
you  will  recognize  in  the  following  lines  their  original, 
C.  Malkin  :— 


JAMES    SPEDDING  257 

(I) 

I  cannot  think  that  thou  wilt  die, 

Ever  during  summer  dwelleth 
On  thy  placid  forehead  high, 

Thy  pure  cheek  of  summer  telleth 
Summer  sleepeth  in  thine  eye. 

(2) 

Thousand  solemn  summer  sheen 

Shall  come  and  find  thee  still  as  now. 

With  thy  gracious  eye  serene. 
And  thy  balmy  tress' d  brow 

The  same  as  thou  hast  ever  been. 


"  I  believe  I  have  a  right  to  ask  to  be  remembered 
to  Mrs.  W.  B.  Donne.  Please  give  my  kindest  regards 
to  your  truly  good  mother. 

**  Yours  truly, 

"  J.  Spedding." 

When  Spedding  next  went  into  the  North  himself, 
he  was  supposed  to  be  much  engaged  in  Wordsworth's 
company,  "  cigars  and  the  rudiments  of  German." 
He  never  agreed  with  Sterling,  who  in  describing 
Wordsworth,  said  there  was  "  little  of  the  poet  and 
philosopher  in  the  lower  part  of  his  face.  This 
accounts  for  the  unnecessary  trivialities  of  some  of 
his  writings,  but  more  than  all  for  The  Excursion." 

In  another  of  Spedding's  letters  to  W.  B.  Donne, 
he  describes  some  of  his  early  literary  experiments, 
and  gives  an  interesting  criticism  on  Fanny  Kemble's 
recently  pubhshed  tragedy — she  was  only  twenty- 
one  at  that  time. 

17— (2318) 


258        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

"  Trinity  College, 

"  April  I,  1832. 

My  life  is  full  of  weary  days  : 

Yet  good  things  have  not  kept  aloof, 

Nor  wandered  into  other  ways  : 

I  have  not  lacked  thy  mild  reproof 

Nor  golden  largess  of  thy  praise. 

Shake  hands,  my  friend,  across  the  brink 
Of  that  dark  grave  to  which  I  go  : 

Shake  hands  once  more  :    I  cannot  sink 
So  far,  far  down,  but  I  shall  know 

The  voice,  and  answer  from  below. 

"  Do  not  suppose  that  this  alludes  to  any  physical 
disease  of  my  own :  all  at  Ely  though  the  cholera  be, 
and  all  in  Rose  Crescent  though  it  be  reported.  It  is 
only  a  moral  death  that  I  have  died  ;  and  not  that 
neither,  except,  as  I  hope,  in  your  imagination.  For 
in  truth,  oh  thou  that  usedest  to  write  often  and  be 
written  to  oftener,  my  offence  is  rank  and  the  smell 
of  it  may  be  best  excused  to  the  delicate  sense  of  your 
epistolary  conscience  by  being  supposed  to  savour  of 
the  Charnel  House.     Truly,  if  you  have  not  believed 

me   dead,   you   must   have  wished   me   d d.     An 

unfortunate  alternative  for  me,  but  I  will  accept  either, 
rather  than  believe  that  you  have  not  thought  me 
worth  the  damning.  Howbeit,  I  have  long  repented 
of  the  wrong  I  have  been  doing  you,  and  I  am  now 
going  to  requite  it. 

Oh  !    my  gentle  Donne, 
We  owe  thee  much  :    within  this  wall  of  flesh 
There  is  a  soul  counts  thee  his  creditor, 
And  with  advantage  means  to  pay  thy  love. 


JAMES    SPEDDING  259 

Which  is  indeed  the  reason  why  I  began  with  those 
same  stanzas  which  I  presume  you  are  still  feasting 
on  in  your  inmost  heart,  and  not  attending  to  what 
I  am  now  saying,  which  is  also  the  reason  why  I  write 
so  foolishly  and  repent  not. 

"  By  those  two  stanzas  (they  have  entered  into 
your  soul  already,  so  now  listen  to  the  words  of  Mer- 
cury) I  conceive  I  have  already  made  ample  requital 
for  all  past  neglect,  as  well  as  enriched  this  parcel  to 
the  value  of  carriage  ;  for  whose  should  they  be  but  the 
great  Alfred's,  and  to  whom  should  they  be  addressed 
but  to  the  lordly-browed  and  gracious  Hallam  ? 
worthy  subject  of  worthy  Poet  !  You  have  seen  but 
httle  of  the  said  Hallam,  but  I  know  him  well  and— 

I  love  his  voice,  that  falls  upon  my  ear 
Like  a  lonely  leaping  fountain. 

***** 

Eyes  of  joyful  grey,  ht  up 

With  summer  lightnings  of  a  soul 
So  full  of  summer  warmth,  so  glad, 

So  healthy,  clear  and  sound,  and  whole 
***** 

"A  fragment  as  you  perceive,  and  to  remain  a 
fragment,  the  last  hues  forming  part  of  a  perfect  poem 
which  you  may  hereafter  see  ;  and  the  unworthy  sub- 
ject of  so  exquisite  a  fragmentbeing  com  bined  with  a 
wealthy,  portly  miller  with  a  double  chin  and  a  pretty 
daughter.     Guess  who  ! 

"  And  now  if  you  deduct  the  postage  of  this  letter 
and  two  or  three  more  which  I  hope  to  be  favoured 
with,  you  will  find  that  I  have  not  taxed  your  purse 
unreasonably  nor  unseasonably  with  this  same  parcel. 

"  Moreover,  as  I  do  not  deal  in  mimic  modesty,  at 
least  not  with  my  familiars,  I  presume  that  its  other 
contents  will  not  be  uninteresting  to  you.     You  will 


26o        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

find  in  it  my  *  Apology  for  the  Nineteenth  Century/ 
a  work  (as  I  have  told  you  before,  and  now  beg  to 
reassure  you)  of  great  fame  in  these  parts,  and  indeed, 
I  may  say,  the  rock  on  which  my  name  is  (for  the 
present)  built ;  my  classical  and  mathematical  specu- 
lations having  turned  up  blanks,  or  not  much  better. 
You  will  also  find  in  it  the  '  substance  of  a  speech, 
etc.,'  being  a  speech  spoken  and  afterwards  composed 
by  me — observe,  by  substance  of  a  speech  I  merely 
mean  a  speech  not  as  spoken.  The  publication  of  the 
same  is  at  the  expense  and  desire  of  my  father,  who 
says  he  can  understand  it,  every  word,  and  rejoices 
therefore.  I  am  not  aware  that  anybody  has  bought 
it  or  taken  notice  of  it ;  but  I  think  it  (not  the  less, 
but  the  rather,  for  that)  a  good  speech,  well  written, 
and  well  reasoned,  and  far  too  much  in  the  right  to 
find  any  sympathy  in  the  thought  and  feelings  of  an 
enlightened  public.  This  feeling,  you  will  observe, 
is,  and  always  has  been,  part  of  my  philosophy  ;  and 
what  philosopher  but  would  be  disquieted  with  any 
honours  which  involved  the  dishonour  of  a  favourite 
theory  ? 

"  Yet,  again,  you  will  find  in  it  a  third  composition 
of  mine,  which  points  at  a  fourth,  which  will,  however, 
cost  you  half  a  crown,  if  your  idle  curiosity  should 
prove  too  strong  for  your  economy  and  induce  you 
to  procure  it.  '  Romeo  in  Co  vent  Garden  versus 
Romeo  in  Shakespeare  '  is  a  subject  on  which  you 
are  much  interested.  The  history  of  its  composition 
is  as  follows  :  There  was  a  certain  Englishman' s 
Magazine  in  which  Hallam  and  other  friends  of  mine 
took  an  interest,  and  which,  claiming  as  it  did  to  be 
a  literary  reformer,  did  thereby  claim  the  interest  and 
support  of  all  good  and  wise  men.  This  opportunity 
of  troubling  the  community  with  my  sentiments  on 


JAMES    SPEDDING  261 

any  subject  happened  to  coincide  with  certain  con- 
ceptions of  exceeding  disgust  at  the  modern  drama, 
which  I  conceived  in  the  last  long  vacation,  w^hen  I 
was  in  London,  left  much  to  myself,  and  went  now 
and  then  to  see  a  play,  and  always  came  away  with  a 
headache  (an  infallible  sign  of  badness  as  a  work  of 
art).  The  modern  Romeo  and  Juliet  was  a  good 
subject  to  fire  off  upon,  and  accordingly  I  began  the 
article  of  which  that  I  now  send  you  forms  the  second 
part.  I  intended  to  have  written  only  two  or  three 
pages  ;  but  the  exposition  of  my  views  of  the  spirit 
and  purpose  of  dramatic  art  swelled  into  a  goodly 
article  by  itself,  which  was  reviewed  and  acknow- 
ledged by  the  editor,  who  thanked  me  duly  by  return 
of  post,  and  made  use  of  it  in  his  October  number. 
Unfortunately,  however,  my  article  possessed  every 
quality  of  greatness  in  such  a  degree  that  the  English- 
man s  Magazine  died  in  the  effort  of  giving  it  birth. 

"  Wherefore,  also,  my  second  part  appears  in  un- 
printed  individuality  at  your  service.  I  have  not  got 
a  copy  of  the  first  part  to  send  you.  Wherefore,  if 
you  want  it,  you  must  apply  through  your  book- 
seller for  the  Englishman's  Magazine  for  October,  1831, 
at  Moxon's,  64,  New  Bond  Street.  It  will  cost  you 
half  a  crown,  but  contains  divers  quaint  and  good 
things  besides  mine — especially  a  facetious,  but  not 
first-rate  specimen  of  Charles  Lamb.  But  in  the 
number  for  August  there  is  not  only  an  admirable 
Eha  about  Elhston,  but  also  a  splendid  critique  on 
Alfred  Tennyson,  by  Hallam,  so  you  will  judge  for 
yourself. 

"  If  you  happen  to  know  any  publication  which 
would  take  my  second  part  and  pubhsh  it  without 
discretionary  alterations,  it  is  very  much  at  their 
service.     It  is  a  thing  for  the  day,  and  will  become 


262        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

obsolete  in  a  year  or  so  :  and,  therefore,  though  it 
is  not  worth  troubhng  oneself  about,  I  would  wilHngly 
pick  up  any  opportunity  that  might  fall  in  my  way. 
But  I  have  no  notion  of  being  improved  by  an  editor, 
and  therefore  I  would  not  give  up  the  MS.  on  such  a 
condition,  which  said  editor  would  think  anything 
but  reasonable.  However,  as  I  said  before,  it  is  not 
worth  all  this  jaw. 

''  I  have  read  Fanny  Kemble's  tragedy.  It  was  so 
magnificently  praised  in  some  of  the  periodicals  that 
I  began  to  tremble  for  the  fair  fame  of  my  friend's 
sister.  But  I  think  the  praise  was  exaggerated,  and 
both  the  merits  and  defects  of  the  play  do  her  great 
credit.  As  poetry,  it  is  poetry  of  a  very  high  order, 
not  only  in  the  diction,  which  throughout  is  English 
and  excellent,  and  in  the  separate  passages,  but  the 
whole  thing  is  poetry  :  the  action,  the  feehng,  the 
character  all  unfold  themselves  in  the  true  spirit  of 
poetry ;  they  have  the  genuine  swell  and  fall,  the  glory 
and  repose  of  art.  As  a  drama,  it  has  very  great  but 
surely  not  Shakespearian  merit.  I  perceive,  and  I 
am  glad  of  it,  none  of  the  familiarity  with  the  secrets 
of  human  passion  which  is  claimed  for  her.  The 
darker  passions  in  her  play  are  only  reflected  from 
Shakespeare — I  do  not  believe  that  she  is  a  whit  more 
familiar  with  them  than  you  and  I,  who  know  them 
out  of  the  bard  of  Avon,  and  Walter  Scott,  and  Don 
Juan  and  other  such  books  that  let  one  into  secrets — 
but  as  for  anything  more,  we  are  as  innocent  as  lambs 
unborn. 

"  You  speak  of  Trench's  metamorphosis  ;  ay  marry! 
but  what  could  you  expect  of  a  man  who  used  to  be- 
lieve in  Shelley  ?  Did  I  not  tell  you  that  people  would 
come  round  to  my  opinions  concerning  that  great 
warrer  against  Customs  and   Rights  and   Forms  and 


JAMES    SPEDDING  263 

'  the  crust  of  outworn  opinions  on  which  established 
superstitions  depend  ? '  Blakesley  never  admits  that 
he  has  changed  an  opinion^  but  he,  too,  is  full  of  the 
inviolable  sanctity  of  conventionalities. 

***** 

"  I  am,  yours  in  all  purity  of  utilism, 

"  James  Spedding." 

"  MiREHOUSE, 

"  Keswick, 

"  October  28,  1834. 
"  My  dear  Donne, — 

*'  You  desired  me  to  ask  Southey  whether  certain 
pictures  in  your  possession  would  be  of  use  to  him  in 
his  Life  of  Cowper.  I  called  many  weeks  ago  to  execute 
the  commission,  but  he  was  away,  and  I  have  been 
prevented  since,  partly  by  my  own  laziness  which 
waxeth,  and  partly  by  other  things  over  which  I  have 
as  little  control  till  within  the  last  few  days. 

"  He  will  be  glad  to  have  the  use  of  them,  and  will 
write  to  you  about  it.  I  saw  him  yesterday,  and  he 
gave  me  some  very  strange  and  interesting  in- 
formation about  Cowper  which  he  had  gathered  out 
of  certain  letters  from  Newlon  to  Thornton.  The 
strangest  of  all  will  not  be  made  public.  He  thinks 
Cowper's  letters  the  most  beautiful  that  ever  were 
written. 

"  I  know  that  Coleridge  is  dead,  and  that  De  Quincy 
has  written  reminiscences  of  him.  The  article  is  in 
Tail's  Magazine  for  September  and  October,  but  the 
last  I  have  not  yet  seen.  It  is  powerful  and  very  in- 
teresting, but  I  am  daily  more  and  more  convinced 
that  nobody  ought  to  pubHsh  anything  touching  living 
men  and  women  without  first  consulting  me.     In  some 


264        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

parts  the  article  is  almost  disgusting,  by  reason  of  its 
indiscreet  prattle  about  things  which  should  not  be 
prattled  about  at  all — least  of  all  in  pubhc.  The 
parts  which  relate  to  Coleridge  himself,  his  habits, 
and  powers  of  thought,  are  worthy  of  De  Quincy, 
which,  from  me,  is  almost  as  much  as  need  be  said. 
What  think  you  of  the  following  as  a  specimen  ? 

"  '  Coleridge,  to  many  people,  and  often  I  have  heard 
the  complaint,  seemed  to  wander  ;  and  he  seemed  then 
to  wander  most  when  in  fact  his  resistance  to  the 
wandering  instinct  was  greatest,  viz.  when  the  com- 
pass and  huge  circuit  by  which  his  illustrations  moved, 
travelled  furthest  into  remote  regions  before  they 
began  to  revolve.' 

"  This  is  what  I  call  throwing  light  upon  a  thing — 
illuminating  counsel  by  words  with  knowledge.  What 
such  a  man  might  do,  towards  setting  mankind  right, 
if  he  would  but  set  about  it  seriously  !  But,  alas  !  the 
'  De  emendatione  humani  intellectus '  is,  as  it  were,  an 
aqueduct.  See  Confessions  of  an  E.O.E.  (English 
Opium  Eater). 

"  I  presume  that  by  this  time — indeed,  long  before 
this  time — you  have  received  a  Latin  essay  which  I 
promised  you,  and  which  it  will  require  all  your  charity 
to  excuse.  I  sent  it  about  three  months  ago  to  be 
forwarded  to  you  by  Henry  Taylor,  that  famous  man 
Philip  van  Artevelde,  who  detained  it  on  its  passage 
at  my  suggestion,  though  contrary  to  my  recommen- 
dation. Have  you  read  P.v.A.  ?  because  if  you  have, 
you  cannot  but  think  his  opinion  worth  a  pause  ; 
and  his  opinion  is,  that  so  far  forth  in  Utilism  as  that 
essay  goes,  everybody  must  go  with  me  who  knows 
the  doctrine  under  all  its  names,  and  is  not  ashamed 
to  avow  it.  I  must  say  I  am  not  a  little  gratified  to 
find  myself  wandering  in  such  good  company,  though 


JAMES    SPEDDING  265 

(while  I  am  writing  to  you)  it  is  but  becoming  in  me 
to  admit   that  I   am  wandering. 

"  Remember  me  to  your  household  and 
"  Believe  me, 

"  James  Spedding." 

This  trifling  allusion  to  his  lack  of  a  fixed  faith  is  char- 
acteristic of  Spedding's  singular  mental  and  moral  com- 
placency.  He  seems  to  have  gone  through  none  of  the 
qualms  and  misgivings  and  agonies  of  mind  which 
wrung  the  souls  of  most  of  his  friends.  Yet  his 
heart  was  full  of  love  for  his  fellow-men,  and  he  was 
one  to  whom  others  in  sorrow  turned  naturally  for 
sympathy  and  comfort.  Mr.  Hallam  sought  his 
assistance  when  he  was  contemplating  his  Memoirs  of 
his  son.  "  Spedding,"  he  said,  "  will  be  able  to  assist 
me  better  than  anybody  else."  Spedding's  apprecia- 
tions both  of  Arthur  and  of  Henry  Fitzmaurice  Hallam 
rank  high  as  memorial  tributes,  and  prove,  if  proof 
were  needed,  that  his  heart  was  as  great  as  his  mind. 

In  1835  he  entered  the  Colonial  Office  ;  the  following 
few  words  to  Donne  relate  to  his  work  there  : — 

'' February  i. 
"  My  dear  Donne, — 

"  As  usual  I  have  nothing  to  do  but  to  confess  my- 
self no  gentleman. 

''February  4.  What  my  confessing  mood  might 
have  led  me  to  I  do  not  know,  when  I  was  interrupted 
by  P.  V.  Artevelde  on  pubhc  business.  As  it  is,  let 
this  last  put  off  (No.  looi)  speak  for  its  brethren  that 
have  gone  to  their  account  before  it. 


266        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

"  I  also  have  at  last  got  acquainted  with  Maurice, 
who  now  officiates  at  Guy's  Hospital,  and  he  quite 
equals  my  expectations,  which  were  high  enough.  I 
have  seen  him  three  or  four  times.  I  fear,  however, 
that  he  will  not  be  able  to  make  a  convert  of  me  to  a 
purer  philosophy.  I  fancy  that  if  I  should  ever 
perceive  the  dramatic  profanity  of  his  views — their 
foundation  in  his  nature — it  ought  to  satisfy  me. 

"  At  present  I  am  engaged  in  an  attempt  to  reduce 
the  military  expenditure  in  the  West  Indies,  and 
though  it  be  justly  deemed  impossible  to  turn  a  black 
army  white,  yet  it  deserves  consideration  whether  a 
white  army  may  not  be  turned  black  ;  you  will  call 
it  a  niggerly  economy,  and  I  hope  it  may  turn  out  so." 

The  following  gives  an  interesting  glimpse  of  Edward 
FitzGerald  as  well  as  of  Tennyson  : — 

"  MiREHOUSE, 

June  I,  1835. 
**  My  dear  Donne, — 

"  One  reason  for  my  long  silence,  and  a  reason 
sufficient  to  account  for  the  same,  though  not  to  excuse 
it,  is  that  I  have  mislaid  your  last  letter  and  cannot 
lay  my  hands  on  it  anywhere  ;  which  makes  me  think 
that  I  must  have  put  it  by  as  a  precious  thing.  People 
tell  me  always  to  put  things  by,  and  it  will  save  time 
in  the  end,  for  then  I  shall  never  waste  it  in  looking 
for  them.  This  practice  may  be  good  for  some  people, 
but  I  have  never  found  it  answer.  When  I  leave 
things  about  or  cram  them  into  the  next  book  or 
drawer,  I  must  indeed  admit  that  I  cannot  always 
find  them  at  once  ;  but  when  I  have  once  put  a  thing 
what  I  call  by,  that  is  in  a  proper  place,  I  can  never 
find  it  at  all. 


JAMES    SPEDDING  267 

"  E.F.G."  (Edward  FitzGerald)  'was  here  for  about 
a  month,  and  left  us  some  three  weeks  ago.  He  is 
the  Prince  of  Ouietists.  I  reckon  myself  a  quiet  man, 
but  that  is  nature,  in  him  it  is  a  principle.  Half  the 
self-sacrifice,  the  self-denial,  the  moral  resolution, 
which  he  exercises  to  keep  himself  easy,  would  amply 
furnish  forth  a  martyr  or  a  missionary.  His  tran- 
quillity is  like  a  pirated  copy  of  the  peace  of  God. 
Truly  he  is  a  most  comfortable  companion.  He  would 
have  everybody  about  him  as  tranquil  as  himself. 

*'  Do  you  know  that  Deville,  the  phrenologist,  pre- 
dicted of  him  that  he  would  be  given  to  theology 
and  '  Religion  in  the  supernatural  parts '  ?  Was 
there  ever  so  felicitous  a  mistake  ?  Was  there  ever 
a  stronger  instance  of  the  organs  of  marvellousness 
and  veneration  predominant,  though  driven  so  effec- 
tually out  of  their  ordinary,  if  not  their  natural 
channel  ?  I  take  this  to  be  the  secret  of  all  that  is 
strange  and  wayward  in  his  judgments  on  matters  of 
art  :  for  very  strange  and  wayward  they  appear  to 
me,  though  so  original  and  often  so  profound  and 
luminous. 

"  There  tarried  with  us  at  the  same  time  a  man 
who  is  in  many  points  his  opposite — a  man  whom  you 
know  in  the  spirit  already,  and  will  know  in  the  flesh 
some  day,  as  Scholefield  (after  St.  Paul)  says — to  wit, 
Alfred  Tennyson.  His  spirit  yearns  towards  your 
character  as  bodied  dimly  forth  in  Apostolic  remem- 
brances, and  he  boldly  asserts  that  he  means  to  get 
acquainted  with  you.  He  stayed  three  weeks,  or  it 
may  be  a  month,  but  the  sun  did  not  shine  to  ad- 
vantage, and  it  must  be  a  very  capable  and  effective 
sun  that  shall  make  his  soul  rejoice  and  say,  *  Ha  !  ha  ! 
I  am  warm.' 

"  I  said  he  was  the  opposite  to  Edward  FitzGerald, 


268        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

for  he  is  a  man  always  discontented  with  the  Present 
till  it  has  become  the  Past,  and  then  he  yearns  towards 
it,  and  worships  it,  and  not  only  worships  it,  but  is 
discontented  because  it  is  past. 

"  But  though  this  habit  makes  him  gruff  and 
dyspeptic  enough  at  times,  you  must  understand  that 
he  is  a  man  of  a  noble  spirit  and  a  tender  heart.  His 
frailty  is  that  he  has  not  faith  enough  in  his  own 
powers,  which  produces  two  faults,  first  that  he  does 
not  give  his  genius  full  beat ;  and,  secondly,  that  he 
seeks  for  strength  not  within  but  without,  accusing 
the  baseness  of  his  lot  in  life  and  looking  to  outward 
circumstances  far  miore  than  a  great  man  ought  to 
want  of  them,  and  certainly  more  than  they  will  ever 
bring. 

"  What  is  your  opinion  touching  the  wisdom  of 
booksellers,  considered  as  a  body  with  a  bodily  con- 
sciousness ?  They  have  so  contrived  among  them- 
selves that  there  shall  be  no  complete  edition  of  Cowper 
for  these  forty-eight  years,  and  then  each  of  the  rival 
publishers  spends,  I  suppose,  half  the  profits  of  his 
edition  in  advertising  against  the  other.  One  would 
think  they  might  better,  both  for  themselves  and  the 
pubHc,  have  coalesced.  Southey  does  not  care  ;  he 
has  a  thousand  pounds  for  writing  the  Life  and  super- 
intending the  edition,  which  by  the  way  turns  out 
to  be  no  such  light  labour,  for  he  tells  me  that  upon 
examining  the  MSS.  from  which  Haley  printed  his 
edition  of  the  Letters,  he  finds  not  only  that  many 
parts  have  been  omitted  without  any  reason,  but  that 
they  are  printed  very  inaccurately  all  through,  and 
require  a  thorough  correction  of  the  press.  He 
expects  the  first  volume  to  be  out  in  two  or  three 
months. 

"  I  saw  Wordsworth  for  a  few  hours  not  long  ago ; 


JAMES    SPEDDING  269 

he  is  very  well  himself,  but  troubled  with  domestic 
sorrows  and  anxieties.  His  sister  still  lingers  on,  and 
his  daughter  has  been  ill  for  a  good  while  and  gets  no 
better. 

"  Maurice  has  published  a  pamphlet  entitled  Sub- 
scription no  Bondage,  which  I  have  not  yet  seen. 
They  tell  me  it  does  not  mean  that  a  man  is  not  bound 
to  the  opinions  he  has  subscribed  to.  I  am  rather 
curious  to  see  so  monstrous  a  birth,  the  offspring  of 
so  unnatural  a  connection  as  that  between  the  Genius 
of  Oxford  and  the  Spirit  of  an  '  Apostle.' 

"  Believe  me,  whether  writing  or  neglecting  to 
write, 

"  Ever  your  affectionate  friend, 

"  James  Spedding." 

Spedding  was  a  favourite  subject  for  his  friend 
FitzGerald's  banter.  He  writes  for  instance,  "  Sped- 
ding is  all  the  same  as  ever,  not  to  be  improved,  one 
of  the  best  sights  in  London."  When  he  went  to 
America  with  Lord  Ashburnham,  FitzGerald  said  : 
"  Of  course  you  have  read  the  account  of  Spedding's 
forehead  landing  in  America  ;  English  sailors  hailed  it 
in  the  Channel  mistaking  it  for  Beachy  Head."  And 
later  on  in  this  visit  he  mentions  that  he  begins  to  feel 
sure  that  Spedding  would  be  safe  in  America,  because 
"  to  scalp  such  a  forehead  was  beyond  any  Indian's 
power." 

When  Spedding  got  back  to  England,  he  gave  up 
the  Colonial  Office,  and  also  refused  an  undersecretary- 
ship  which  was  offered  him,  mainly  on  account  of  his 
enormous  business  capacity  which  amounted  almost 
to  genius.      With  regard  to  this,  he  said  "  he  knew 


270        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

his  own  deficiencies,  and  that  it  was  fortunate  he  was 
by  when  the  decision  was  taken."  A  friend  said  at 
the  time,  "  No  one  was  more  fitted  to  take  ofhce,  so 
gentle,  so  luminous,  and,  in  his  own  quiet  way,  so 
energetic  is  he." 

Gladstone  was  disappointed  when  Spedding  refused 
the  post;  he  thought  he  was  just  the  man  who 
ought  to  have  been  persuaded  to  take  it,  and  he  said 
of  the  existing  Civil  Service  System  that  "if  it  had 
brought  eminent  men  into  it,  it  had  driven  men  like 
Manning  and  Spedding  out,"  and  many  of  Spedding's 
friends  also  regretted  his  decision,  but  it  was  the 
result  of  no  whim  nor  idle  indisposition  for  respon- 
sibility. The  fact  was  that  Spedding  felt  the  time 
had  come  for  him  to  renounce  all  else  and  devote  him- 
self to  what  he  had  determined  should  be  his  life's 
work — the  defence  and  rehabilitation  of  Francis  Bacon. 

Few  men  have  given  up  an  easy  calling  in  which 
success  was  sure,  as  well  as  a  liberal  income,  in  order 
to  undertake  laborious  work  certain  to  prove  unre- 
munerative  ;  but  the  chivalrous  Spedding  elected  to 
do  this  for  love  and  never  regretted  his  choice.  He 
cheerfully  set  himself  a  colossal  task,  and  toiled  at  it 
for  more  than  thirty  years — leading  the  life  of  a 
student ;  his  papers  and  books  about  him,  a  little 
company  of  rare  and  delightful  friends  to  break  in 
upon  him,  his  magnum  opus  to  fly  to  and  engross  him 
during  fixed  hours  as  well  as  in  stolen  moments. 

Spedding  was  sociable  rather  than  convivial.  He 
was  interested  in  men  in  spite  of  his  studious  habits. 


JAMES    SPEDDING  271 

He  was  a  charming  host,  generous  with  his  introduc- 
tions ;  and  his  rooms  were  the  rendezvous  of  the  choicest 
intellects  in  London.  Tennyson  made  them  his  head- 
quarters on  many  an  occasion.  It  was  in  them  that 
most  of  "  The  Gardener's  Daughter  "  and  part  of  the 
"  Princess  "  were  written.  It  was  there  that  Spedding 
introduced  Froude  to  Carlyle,  Carlyle  to  Maurice, 
Thirlwall  to  Carlyle  ;  and  many  were  the  illustrious 
people  that  he  brought  together,  and  many  the  important 
friendships  formed  under  his  auspices. 
Brookfield  said  once  to  his  wife  : — 

"  I  opened  the  envelope  of  a  letter  and  enclosure 
which  appears  to  be  from  Mrs.  Fanshawe.  It  was  in 
the  hurry  of  opening  that  which  I  thought  had  news 
from  you,  and  which  forms  a  legitimate  exception  to 
my  pedantic  habits.  I  have  eaten  and  drunken  with 
Thackeray  this  morning.  I  have  called  on  Spedding 
on  my  way  home,  who  is  reading  Sartor  Resartus  by 
me  at  this  moment  (but  only  by  way  of  rest)  ;  we  are 
not  going  to  spend  the  evening  together.  Nothing 
whatever  has  happened  since  you  left  except  that  I 
have  read  and  preached  at  St.  Luke's,  and  read  without 
preaching  in  bed,  and  unfitted  myself  for  either  preach- 
ing or  reading  by  my  meal  with  Thackeray  at  noon." 

And  again  he  notes,  a  few  weeks  later,  when  he  was 
school-inspecting  : — 

"  I  met  a  lively,  good-natured  woman,  kind,  un- 
affected, who  knows  Spedding  and  seemed  satisfied 
with  anybody  who  would  talk  of  native  Cumberland 
.  .  .  nobody  else  did  I  meet  but  the  second  master  of 
this  school  whose  name  suffices — it  is  Cromwell  (but 


272        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

the  meekest  of  men),  but  the  talk  of  Spedding  com- 
pensated." 

While  Spedding  wrote  to  him  from  Cumberland  : — 

"  For  myself  I  have  no  news  to  tell,  but  that  I  have 
been  stationed  here  since  August,  and  am  in  other 
respects  much  the  same  as  in  other  places  at  other 
times,  and  that  I  shall  probably  be  in  London  in  the 
course  of  this  month  or  the  next.  I  hear  that  the 
'  Sterling  '  is  actually  changed  into  the  '  Tuesday  ' 
Club.  What  a  convenience  for  the  Record  if  it  be 
still  incHned  to  persecute." 

The  following  is  a  humorous  reply  to  a  jocular 
query  from  Brookfield,  who  was  still  upon  his  school- 
inspecting  tour : — 

"  MiREHOUSE, 

"  February  22,  1850. 
"  Dear  Sir, — 

"  I  am  sure  you  will  attribute  my  long  delay  in 
answering  your  letter  of  the  2nd  inst,  to  no  other 
than  the  true  cause,  viz.  the  difficulty  of  the  questions 
in  regard  to  which  you  wish  for  my  assistance,  and 
my  remoteness  from  the  vicinity  of  extensive  libraries, 
by  the  aid  of  which  I  might  have  prosecuted  the  re- 
search at  once  more  effectually  and  more  expediently. 
The  limited  command  which  my  present  position 
gives  me  of  books  of  reference  for  the  purpose  of 
classical  investigations  of  the  abstruser  kinds,  entails 
upon  me  the  necessity  of  personally  perusing  the 
classical  authors  to  a  considerable  extent  in  these 
cases.  It  is  superfluous  to  remark  that  such  an 
operation  must  always  consume  a  considerable  time, 
without  necessarily  leading  to  any  satisfactory  result. 


JAMES    SPEDDING  273 

"  The  singular  expression  in  the  first  sentence  of 
the  extract  which  you  have  submitted  to  me,  *  All 
Britons  infect  themselves  with  glass/  appears  to  me  to 
admit  of  only  one  satisfactory  explanation,  though  this 
explanation  involves  the  assignation  to  the  word 
vitnim  of  a  meaning  which,  however  familiar  to  an 
English  ear,  cannot,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  be  sup- 
ported by  any  (other)  classical  authority.  We  are  to 
remember,  however,  that  the  author  was  writing  about 
England,  and  was  probably  himself  in  England  at  the 
time,  so  the  occurrence  of  a  word  in  an  English  sense 
is  the  less  to  be  wondered  at.  I  conceive  that  the 
writer,  observing  the  predominance  of  that  kind  of 
purple  here  which  drinking  induces  upon  the  fair 
complexion  of  the  north,  and  inquiring  (of  course 
through  an  interpreter)  what  made  their  faces  so 
purple  (ccendent),  received  for  answer  that  '  they  had 
taken  a  glass  too  much,'  which  in  the  process  of  trans- 
lation would  easily  become  *  they  had  taken  too  much 
glass,'  and  thence,  in  the  way  of  generalization,  they 
had  infected  or  stained  themselves  (i.e.  had  altered 
their  complexions)  with  glass.  If  this  conjecture  be 
adopted,  all  will  be  easy,  and  the  sense  will  be  as 
follows,  *  All  the  Britons  spoil  their  complexions  with 
drinking,  which  makes  their  colour  purple '  (which 
we  know  to  be  the  fact,  see  Othello)  and  on  this  ac- 
count their  faces  are  the  more  horrible  in  a  fight. 
(Another  well  known  fact,  the  eyes  blackening  and  the 
face  swelling  much  more  when  the  habit  of  the  body 
is  bad — and  quite  in  character  with  the  notorious  taste 
of  our  ancestors  for  pugilism.) 

"  So  far  all  seems  clear.  But  what  are  we  to  make 
of  capilloque  sunt  promisso  ?  What  can  promised 
hair  mean  ?  Now  it  is  known  that  baldness  is  much 
more  common  in  England  than  in  Italy,  and  that  bald- 


274        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

ness  is  always  accompanied  with  the  promise  (by  the 
vendors  of  bear's  grease)  of  hair.  Moreover,  Caesar, 
being  himself  bald,  and  rather  ashamed  of  it,  was  no 
doubt  familiar  with  these  promises,  and  may  be  sup- 
posed to  have  used  the  indirect  and  somewhat  playful 
expression,  capillus  promissus,  by  way  of  euphemism, 
in  preference  to  the  bare  calvities.  If  this  be  allowed,  I 
would  translate  the  rest  of  the  passage  thus,  '  The  hair 
of  the  head  they  are  told  will  come  '  (i.e.  they  have 
no  hair  on  their  heads),  and  they  shave  every  part  of 
the  body  except  the  head  (which  is  already  bare)  and 
the  upper  lip.  The  truth  was  that  they  shaved  their 
bodies  to  show  how  little  they  valued  hair  (which  they 
could  not  have),  leaving  only  a  moustache  to  make 
people  think  that  they  might  have  as  much  of  it  as 
they  pleased. 

"  Hoping  that  these  imperfect  suggestions  may  be 
of  use  to  you  in  your  most  interesting  and  important 
office, 

"  I  have  the  honour  to  remain  yours, 

"  James  Spedding." 

Spedding  was  from  the  beginning  one  of  Tennyson's 
warmest  admirers  and  staunchest  supporters.  His  re- 
views of  the  1842  Poems  did  much  to  advance  the  Poet's 
reputation  and  to  enhance  his  friendship  for  his  critic. 

Of  his  own  lighter  works,  he  says  he  wrote  his  arti- 
cles and  reviews,  not  because  he  wanted  subject  for  an 
article,  but  because  an  article  on  the  subject  was 
wanted  at  the  time. 

Carlyle's  enthusiastic  disciples  all  lent  him  loyal 
support  on  the  occasion  of  his  lectures  on  German 
literature,  and  Spedding,  with  reference  to  them,  wrote 
to  Milnes  : — 


JAMES    SPEDDING  275 

"As  it  is  Carlyle's  first  essay  in  this  kind  it  is  im- 
portant there  should  be  a  respectable  number  of  hearers. 
.  .  .  Learning,  taste  and  nobility  are  represented  by 
Hallam,  Rogers  and  Lansdowne.  H.  Taylor  has  pro- 
vided a  large  proportion  of  family  wit  and  beauty,  and 
I  have  assisted  them  to  a  little  Apostlehood.  .  .  . 
Yesterday  I  dined  with  Alfred  Tennyson  at  the  Cock 
Tavern,  Temple  Bar.  We  had  two  chops,  one  pickle, 
two  cheeses,  one  pint  of  stout,  one  pot  of  port  and  three 
cigars.  When  we  had  finished  I  had  to  take  his  regrets 
to  the  Kembles  ;  he  could  not  go  because  he  had  the 
influenza." 

When  Brookfield  was  ill  and  starting  for  Madeira, 
Spedding  wrote  : — 

'*  October  29,  1851. 
"  My  dear  Brookfield, — 

"  I  was  very  glad  to  see  your  handwriting,  and  the 
more  when  it  told  me  that  you  were  still  within  reach 
of  a  line  of  greeting.  For  I  have  been  these  two  or 
three  months  under  the  strangest  delusions  as  to  your 
whereabouts.  About  the  middle  of  August,  dining 
with  a  friend  and  neighbour  (Mrs.  Brookfield  will  at 
once  understand  that  I  mean  John  Forster),  Mrs. 
Pollock  shocked  me  with  information  that  you  were 
going  to  Italy,  all  three,  the  next  morning.  She  had 
heard  it  from  Richmond  (she  said)  to  whom  Mrs.  B. 
had  been  sitting,  and  spoke  so  confidently  that  I 
thought  it  useless  to  go  to  Cadogan  Place  to  inquire. 
At  all  other  places,  as  Mortlake  (Sir  Henry  Taylor's), 
Aubrey  De  Vere's,  etc.,  I  made  dihgent  inquiry,  but 
could  hear  nothing  about  you.  So  I  imagined  you  to  be 
somewhere  in  the  warm  sun,  moving  probably  towards 
Rome,  but  uncertain  where,  till  Lord  Monteagle  told 
me,  two  or  three  days  ago,  that  he  had  just  seen  you, 


276        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

on  the  point  of  sailing  for  Madeira,  upon  which  I 
imagined  you  already  on  the  seas.  (Pity  you  were 
not,  by  the  way,  if  the  weather  at  Southampton  is 
as  wintry  as  ours  is  here  to-day.)  But,  however,  I 
am  glad  to  know  where  you  are,  and  to  be  inquired 
after  so  kindly.  My  mishap  was  hardly  worth  men- 
tioning, except  to  account  for  delays  in  answering 
letters.  I  had  to  be  poulticed  and  to  keep  quiet  for 
a  few  days,  and  being  in  very  good  quarters  I  stayed 
where  I  was  a  fortnight  longer  than  I  meant  to  do ; 
but  I  have  had  no  illness  or  serious  injury  of  any  kind, 
and  am  now  as  sound  as  ever,  except  in  one  place  which 
has  not  yet  perfectly  healed.  You  call  it  good  shoot- 
ing when  one  gets  as  many  shots  as  one  can  desire, 
which  was  certainly  my  case  on  that  day — namely, 
eight  in  my  arm,  two  in  my  hand,  eleven  in  my  back, 
and  nine  or  ten  in  my  thigh — but  all  ingloriously  be- 
hind, and  they  did  me  so  little  harm  that  I  was  not 
even  interesting.  But  I  had  all  the  other  privileges 
of  a  sick  man  without  any  of  the  sensations — all  the 
privileges,  I  should  say,  except  that  of  tossing  and 
tumbling,  for  being  ordered  to  be  on  my  back  without 
either  turning  or  raising  myself,  and  not  to  move  my 
right  leg  or  arm  for  fear  of  disturbing  the  poultices,  it 
was  impossible  to  toss  or  to  express  impatience  by 
any  outward  sign,  and  I  happened  to  be  so  remark- 
ably well  in  other  respects  all  the  time  that  I  did  not 
even  feel  it  much.  And  Fanny  Kemble,  who  was 
staying  at  the  house,  came  and  read  Shakespeare  and 
Milton  to  me,  and — but  my  candle  is  rapidly  giving 
out,  and  I  shall  hardly  have  time  to  direct  and  seal. 
Take  my  best  wishes  with  you — for  self  and  wife — 
into  the  purple  seas,  and  come  back  well. 

"  I  was  once  within  two  degrees  of  Madeira  myself, 
and  saw  the  starry  heavens  there  for  the  first  time. 
"  Ever  yours,  James  Spedding." 


JAMES    SPEDDING  277 

And  when  Brookfield  again  asked  advice,  this  time 
upon  his  reading  of  the  Merchant  of  Venice,  he 
wrote  : — 

"  My  dear  Brookfield, — 

"  I  did  not  think  of  being  asked  for  criticism,  or  I 
should  have  tried  to  remember  the  particular  points 
that  struck  me  at  the  time,  which  I  cannot  do  now, 
though  I  have  looked  through  the  play  to  see  if  it 
would  recall  them.  I  only  remember,  in  the  matter 
of  interpretation,  that  I  thought  you  pronounced  the 
word  '  sufficient '  ('  My  meaning  is  that  he  is  sufficient ') 
as  if  you  did  not  understand  it  as  I  do — namely,  a  man 
equal  to  the  undertaking ;  a  '  good  '  man  in  Shylock's 
phrase  was  a  man  '  who  could  do  what  he  undertook,' 
a  common  meaning  of  '  sufficient '  then,  now  obsolete. 
I  should  throw  a  stronger  emphasis  on  the  word. 

*'  In  general,  I  do  not  object  to  the  histrionic,  because 
it  seemed  to  me  that  the  parts  most  acted  were  the 
best  done.  Much  of  the  part  of  Shylock  (which  only 
wanted  the  stage  and  the  dress  to  be  complete  acting) 
seemed  to  me  admirable.  The  other  parts  which  were 
less  elaborate  I  did  not  think  nearly  so  good.  So 
telling  and  effective  you,  of  course,  did  not  mean  them 
to  be,  but  I  thought  they  were  not  so  good  in  their 
kind.  Bassanio  always  seemed  to  me  one  of  the  most 
gentlemanly  men  in  all  Shakespeare — no  man  talks 
more  gracefully,  easily,  unaffectedly,  or  behaves  on  all 
occasions  more  handsomely.  Antonio  also  was  surely 
intended  by  Shakespeare  for  a  kind  of  model  Christian 
merchant  of  unbounded  liberaHty,  tender  affections, 
grave  and  gentle  manners.  It  is  true  that  a  Jew  was 
a  dog  in  his  eyes,  just  as  a  Christian  is  a  dog  among 
Mahometans — that  is  to  say,  Antonio  was  an  orthodox 
Christian,  and  thought  of  Jews  as  all  pious  Christians 


278        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

then  did,  and  as  the  ostler  at  Ware  did  since  the  be- 
ginning of  the  present  century.  At  least  the  story  was 
told,  as  of  a  man  whom  people  still  remembered,  about 
the  time  I  went  to  Cambridge.  I  suppose  you  know 
it  ;  but  if  not,  this  is  it  as  it  was  told  to  me,  I  suppose 
in  the  summer  of  1828.  I  know  it  was  as  we  came 
from  bathing.  '  There  was  a  hot  opposition  between 
two  of  the  Cambridge  coaches,  which  kept  the  same 
hours ;  one  of  them  was  driven  by  a  Jew.  The 
Christian  coach  was  ahead,  but  while  it  was  changing 
horses  at  Ware,  the  infidel  cantered  past,  upon  which 
the  ostler — his  divinity,  it  seems,  getting  the  better  of  his 
humanity — shouted  after  him  at  the  top  of  his  voice, 

"  '  Who  crucified  our  Saviour  ?     D your  blood  !  '  " 

So  Antonio,  when  he  came  to  words  with  Shylock  on 
the  Rialto,  and  got  angry  and  excited,  treated  him  as 
a  man  who  had  crucified  his  Saviour  and  deserved 
to  be  kicked  out  of  the  world.  Such  conduct  was  not, 
I  fancy,  inconsistent  with  the  highest  courtesy,  gen- 
erosity and  modesty  in  all  his  deahngs  with  the  rest  of 
mankind,  and  Shakespeare  could  not  leave  it  out, 
without  depriving  Shylock  of  the  one  excuse  which 
brings  him  within  the  reach  of  sympathy.  I  should 
think  he  rather  exaggerated  it  on  that  account.  For 
such  a  thirst  for  revenge  excited  merely  against  a  rival 
for  interfering  with  his  gains,  without  any  higher  or 
more  plausible  ground  of  offence,  would  have  been 
too  odious.  In  representing  the  sense  of  personal 
indignities  as  inflaming,  and  the  theological  quarrel  as 
seeming  in  a  manner  to  sanctify  the  passion  which  had 
originally  grown  out  of  its  selfish  motives,  Shake- 
speare was,  I  suppose,  quite  true  to  nature.  And  so 
far,  taking  Shylock' s  point  of  view,  one  can  feel  with 
him  ;  Antonio  had  given  him  a  right  (as  indeed  Antonio 
himself  adnnts)  to  treat  him  as  an  enemy  and  use  ad- 


JAMES    SPEDDING  279 

vantages  against  him.     But  I  cannot  think  that  our 
sympathy  with  Shylock  was  intended  to  go  beyond 
this  ;   or  that  it  is  possible  by  any  art  to  transfer  the 
interest  of  the  spectator  to  his  side  of  the  question 
without  losing  all  the  effect  of  the  trial  scene,  m  which 
we  are  certainly  intended  to  feel  the  turning  of  the 
tables  upon  him,   and  the  announcement  one  after 
another  of  the  penalties  in  which  he  has  involved 
himself,  as   an  appropriate  retribution  m   which  we 
heartily  sympathize.     Now  it  seemed  to  me  that  you 
lost  this  effect,  partly,  perhaps,  because  the  clock  had 
struck  and  you  had  to  hurry  the  scene— an  accident 
which  I  should  say  you  ought  always  to  take  effectual 
measures  to  avoid  ;   whatever  part  you  have  to  omit 
or  reduce,  always  leave  rosy  time  and  space  for  the 
closing  scene,  and  as  you  know  exactly  how  much  you 
have  to  do,  it  must  be  easy  to  arrange  it  beforehand. 
But  chiefly  because,  by  representing  everybody  who 
came  in  contact  with  Shylock  as  so  much  less  respect- 
able you  drew  your  audience  to  his  side  ;    in  so  much 
that  I  reaUy  beheve  if  instead  of  '  Tarry  a  little    and 
what  follows  you  had  told  us  that  Antonio  was  then 
strapped  down  for  the  operation,  and  had  made  Shylock, 
after  touching  him  with  the  point  of  the  knife,  release 
him  and  settle  a  smaU  pension  upon  him  on  condition 
that  he  did  not  spit  at  Jews  any  more,  we  should  have 
thought    the    practical    justice    better    administered. 
And  you  produced  this  effect  by  making  Bassanio  talk 
like  a  supercilious  coxcomb  and  Antonio  like  a  pompous 
brute  ;    though  you  wiU  find  that  they  both  address 
Shylock  with  perfect  and  unaffected  politeness,  until 
he  makes  Antonio  angry  by  reviving  old  quarrels,  m 
which  it  seems  probable,  even  upon  Shylock  s  own 
showing,  that  he  was  in  the  wrong— for  he  says  him- 
self that  Antonio's  chief  offence  was  the  lending  money 


28o         THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

gratis  and  so  bringing  down  the  rate  of  usance.  Did 
you  ever  read  Mrs.  Jameson's  Characteristics  of 
Women  ?  I  remember  thinking  her  exposition  of 
the  trial  scene  and  of  the  effect  of  Portia's  repeated 
attempts  to  induce  Shylock  to  relent,  to  be  merciful, 
to  take  the  offered  compensation,  while  she  still 
allowed  him  to  believe  that  the  law  was  on  his  side, 
admirably  good  and  true.  It  was  because  she  would 
fain  have  settled  it  without  resorting  to  the  legal 
quibble — which  she  accordingly  kept  in  reserve  until 
his  resistance  to  all  moral  and  reasonable  considera- 
tion left  him  so  entirely  without  excuse  in  substantial 
justice,  that  one  is  glad  to  see  him  caught  in  any  kind 
of  trap,  and  rejoices  at  each  successive  disclosure  of  a 
fresh  penalty  incurred,  not  because  he  is  a  Jew,  but 
because  he  is  an  inhuman  savage.  Like  the  Dean  of 
Westminster  rejoicing  in  the  destruction  of  a  wasp, 
*  it  is  part  of  one's  hatred  of  sin.' 

*'  This  is  what  principally  occurs  to  me  in  the  way 
of  objection  to  your  reading.  I  don't  know  whether 
it  will  be  of  any  use  to  you — though,  if  you  allow  the 
objection,  you  can  have  no  difficulty  in  removing  it. 
It  is  only  to  allow  yourself  and  your  audience  a  little 
Christian  sympathy  with  Antonio  and  Bassanio,  and 
not  make  them  talk  in  a  tone  which  provokes  contempt 
and  disgust. 

"  As  for  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley,  there  is  of  course  a 
great  deal  in  such  very  fine  and  reserved  humour  as 
Addison's,  which  can  hardly  be  made  obvious  to  a 
chance  audience  in  the  days  of  Punch,  not  to  say 
Dickens.  But  as  far  as  I  could  judge  from  the  faces 
I  saw  about  me  on  Wednesday  night,  and  the  sounds 
I  heard,  I  should  say  that  your  readings  from  the 
Spectator  told  very  well.  And  they  would  have  told 
better  if  it  had  not   been  for  a  general  feeling  that 


JAMES    SPEDDING  281 

time  was  up  and  you  were  in  a  hurry.  In  my  own 
case,  at  least,  I  always  find  that  consciousness  of  the 
progress  of  the  clock  naturally  interferes  with  the 
enjoyment  of  listening,  even  when  I  am  in  no  hurry 
myself.  And  I  suppose  you  could  easily  prevent  this 
inconvenience  by  ascertaining  beforehand,  how  many 
minutes  it  takes  to  read  how  many  lines,  and  arrang- 
ing your  extracts  accordingly. 

"  Yours  ever, 

''  James  Spedding. 
"  60,  Lincoln's  Inn  Fields, 

"  1st  Sabbath  in  April,  1859." 

Spedding  was  remarkably  handsome ;  even  late  in 
life  his  clean-cut  features  and  noble  countenance  were 
beautiful.  He  had  a  musical  voice  which  he  never 
raised  above  its  ordinary  pitch,  and  a  ready  and 
winning  smile.  Lady  Ashburton  used  to  say  :  "I 
always  feel  a  kind  of  average  between  myself  and  any 
other  person  I  am  talking  with — between  us  two,  I 
mean — so  that  when  I  am  talking  to  Spedding  I  am 
unutterably  foolish  and  beyond  permission."  He  was 
one  of  the  regular  Bath  House  party — Lord  and  Lady 
Ashburton,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Carlyle,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Brook- 
field,  Milnes  and  Spedding. 

He  was  an  enthusiastic  archer  ;  he  practised  archery 
to  the  end  of  his  days,  and  had  a  mediaeval  belief  in 
the  value  of  the  bow  as  a  weapon.  At  a  dinner  party 
during  the  Franco-Prussian  War,  he  stated  with  grave 
conviction  that  "  he  believed  a  company  of  archers 
would  more  than  hold  their  own  in  modern  warfare." 

It  was  Spedding  who  said  of  Brookfield,  "  In  him 


282        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

a  new  and  original  form  of  genius  was  revealed  to  me." 
The  two  remained  to  the  last  excellent  friends,  and 
Brookfield  was  frequently  the  Hfe  and  soul  of  Spedding's 
cheery  parties.  Venables  said  of  these  assemblies  and 
of  these  meetings  :  "  One  of  the  few  survivors  may  be 
pardoned  for  retaining,  after  fifty  years,  the  opinion  of 
prejudice  that  the  society  in  which  Spedding  and  his 
Cambridge  friends  then  lived,  was  extraordinarily  in- 
teresting and  genial."  The  same  gentleman  said  of 
Spedding's  views,  "He  is  a  regular  Utilitarian  and  a 
scrupulously  chaste  writer." 

Of  his  great  work  it  was  said  that  it  was  an  "  un- 
surpassable model  of  thorough  and  scholarhke  editing." 
He -had  undoubtedly  "perfect  style  and  penetrating 
judgment,"  though  of  himself  he  said,  "  that  he  got 
undeserved  credit  for  knowledge,  because  no  one 
would  believe  that  such  a  man  could  be  so  profoundly 
ignorant."  Venables  vowed  that  the  plan  of  Carlyle's 
"  Cromwell,"  even  to  the  typographical  arrangements 
of  it,  was  borrowed  from  Spedding,  and  that  Spedding's 
powers  of  sustained  labour  have  rarely  been  surpassed  in 
any  man.  While  FitzGerald,  who  could  on  occasion 
call  the  gifted  student  a  "  shy  beast,"  said  "  Spedding 
was  the  wisest  man  I  have  ever  known  and  not  the 
less  so  for  the  plenty  of  the  boy  in  him." 


CHAPTER  XIII 

JOHN    STERLING 

You  might  have  won  the  poet's  name, 
If  such  be  worth  the  winning  now, 
And  gained  a  laurel  for  your  brow 
Of  sounder  leaf  than  I  can  claim. 

(Alfred  Tennyson.) 

For  still  the  thought  of  things  gone  by 
Relieves  of  pain  the  lingering  sigh 

We  give  to  former  woe. 

And  fills  with  finer  joy  the  sense 

Of  happiness  that,  once  intense. 

Has  now  a  starry  glow. 

(John  Sterling.) 
For  an  ill-built  vessel  no  sea  is  smooth  and  no  wind  fair. 

{Ibid.) 

John  Sterling  has  left  upon  mankind  as  great  an  im- 
pression of  brilliant  genius  and  forceful  power  as  if 
he  had  attained  the  highest  Hmits  that  intellectual  and 
imaginative  thought  could  reach  ;  and  this  not  so 
much  owing  to  Carlyle's  fine  life  of  him  as  to  a  vivid 
and  vigorous  personality  which  invariably  penetrated, 
although  it  did  not  always  please. 

When  he  arrived  at  Cambridge,  this  striking  in- 
dividuahty  made  itself  felt ;  it  influenced  all  whom  he 
met,  and  also  drew  to  him  all  those  he  wished  to 


284        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

attract.  Maurice  was  the  only  one  who  hung  back, 
but  his  hesitation  was  not  for  long.  He  was  soon  glad 
to  avail  himself  of  the  friendship  and  support  of 
Sterling's  stronger  nature.  The  two  young  men  had 
much  in  common,  great  brains,  fine  ambitions,  splendid 
gifts.  But  Sterling  had  by  far  the  more  aggressive 
nature.  His  cry  was,  "  God  is  not  in  His  heaven,  all's 
wrong  with  the  world  "  ;  while  Maurice  would  sigh, 
"  God  is  somewhere  ;  would  that  I  could  find  where  !  " 

Their  mutual  influence  was  beneficial  to  neither. 
Without  Sterling,  Maurice  would  sooner  have  found 
his  ideal  and  been  the  happier  ;  without  Maurice, 
Sterling  would  have  been  the  happier,  having  found 
nothing. 

Sterling,  in  a  short  time,  became  naturally  absorbed 
by  the  "  Apostles."  In  the  "  Society  "  his  phenomenal 
eloquence  electrified  every  one,  and  sometimes  caused 
him  to  influence  when  he  had  only  meant  to  interest. 
He  took  up  various  Cambridge  abuses  and  scathingly 
denounced  them.  Merivale  says,  "  His  vehement 
oratory  carried  our  youthful  judgments  away  with  it, 
and  I  dare  not  say  that  the  influence  he  exercised  over 
us  was  very  justly  earned."  In  his  extraordinary 
conversational  powers  Sterling  was  equalled  only  by 
Charles  BuUer,  who  never  touched  him  in  debate,  great 
as  were  his  own  oratorical  gifts.  In  due  course  he 
followed  Maurice  to  Trinity  Hall.  Like  several  of  his 
contemporaries,  he  achieved  no  great  University  distinc- 
tion ;  the  minds  of  this  gifted  group  were  of  too  wide 
a  gauge  to  run  along  academic  grooves  ;  some  of  the 


^ 


,      ,_C     .^-.-N^.    ,/. 


y 


John  Sterliui 


JOHN    STERLING  285 

most  brilliant  of  them  took  no  honours  and  some  left 
without  even  an  ordinary  degree. 

When  Trench  came  up — Trench  who  later  on  entered 
with  him  so  enthusiastically  into  the  Spanish  plot— a 
friendship  was  formed  which  lasted  long  after  Ster- 
ling's breach  with  the  Church.  Sterhng  had  fine 
generous  instincts,  and  appreciation  for  the  talents  of 
others  ;  and  he  and  Maurice  introduced  Trench  to  the 
"  Society."  It  was  then  that  this  batch  of  the 
"  Apostles  "  went  through  their  worst  mental  pertur- 
bations. Trench  was  the  first  to  get  back  into  his 
proper  course,  and  he  was  soon  followed  by  Blakesley, 
then  by  Kemble  ;  but  Sterling  and  Maurice  deviated 
for  many  a  year,  if  indeed  they  ever  regained  their 
true  orbit.  Sterhng  wrote  to  Trench  early  in  their 
friendship,  "  Pray  let  me  see  you  as  soon  as  you  reach 
London,  and  in  the  meantime  commend  me  to  the 
brethren,  who,  I  trust,  are  waxing  daily  in  religion  a.nd 
radicalism." 

His  interest  in  the  "  Apostles  "  was  always  keen. 
When  he  left  Cambridge  he  said  to  Trench  : — 

"  Any  information  about  things  in  general,  that 
any  of  my  Cambridge  friends  would  take  the  trouble 
of  sending  me  would  be  received  with  humble  grati- 
tude, more  especially  any  notices  touching  the  Union, 
the  Essayists,  or  the  "  Apostles."  For  the  last-named 
body,  I  fear  that  since  the  departure  of  last  year's 
men,  the  salt  of  the  earth  must  in  some  degree 
have  lost  its  savour,  though  I  have  no  doubt  that 
Sunderland  still  contrives  to  keep  you  all  in  a  pretty 
pickle.     You  may  assure  the  three  venerable  societies 


286        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

— the  trois  regnes  de  la  Nature — that  I  am  with  them 
in  spirit.  I  have  been  present  in  body  at  several  of 
the  debates  of  the  London  Debating  Society  ;  I  have 
spoken  once  or  twice,  but  it  won't  do.  '  Pearls  before, 
etc'  Just  do  consider  the  martyrdom  to  which 
great  and  good  men  are  exposed.  I  was  going  to  be 
stoned  with  stones  for  being  an  enemy  to  religion, 
and  now  I  am  ground  to  powder  by  a  mill  in  London 
for  excessive  piety." 

As  soon  as  Sterhng  was  settled  in  London,  he  gave 
himself  up  to  literature,  thinking  that  the  one-voiced 
Reviewer  was  perhaps  the  champion  whose  patriotic 
and  wide-souled  views  should  right  the  world.  But 
his  attacks  upon  authority  and  existing  institutions 
failed  to  strike  the  popular  note  and  lost  him  many 
friends. 

Blakesley,  who,  hke  Trench,  possessed  a  calm  critical 
faculty,  wrote  to  Tennyson  with  regard  to  some  of 
the  adverse  comments  on  Sterling  : — 

"  Sterling  and  all  of  his  class  who  have  been  hawked 
at  by  the  mousing  owls  of  Cambridge,  suffer  from  the 
narrow-mindedness  of  criticism.  He  saw  the  abuses 
of  the  present  system  of  things,  which  is  upheld  by 
the  strong  hand  of  power  and  custom,  and  he  attacked 
them  accordingly.  For  this  conduct  he  was  dubbed  a 
radical.  He  soon  saw  that  the  reforms  proposed  by 
that  party  w^re  totally  inadequate  to  the  end  which 
they  proposed  :  that  if  carried  to  their  fullest  effect 
they  would  only  remove  the  symptoms  and  not  the 
cause  of  evil,  that  this  cause  was  the  selfish  spirit 
which  pervades  the  whole  frame  of  society  at  present, 
and  that  to  counterbalance  the  effects  the  cause  of 


JOHN    STERLING  287 

them  must  be  removed.  This  end  he  at  first  probably 
thought,  with  Shelley,  might  be  effected  by  lopping 
off  those  institutions  in  which  that  selfish  spirit  ex- 
hibits itself,  without  any  more  effort.  He  afterwards 
saw,  with  Wordsworth,  that  this  was  not  the  true 
method,  but  that  we  must  implant  another  principle 
with  which  selfishness  cannot  co-exist,  and  trust  that 
this  plant  as  it  grows  up  will  absorb  the  nourishment 
of  the  weed,  in  which  case  those  wickednesses  and 
miseries,  which  are  only  the  forms  in  which  the  latter 
develops  itself,  will  of  their  own  accord  die  away,  as 
soon  as  their  principle  of  vegetation  is  withered  and 
dried  up." 

With  Sterling's  splendid  gifts  it  was  a  thousand 
pities  that  his  father's  affairs  should  have  become  so 
flourishing  as  to  allow  the  son  absolute  independence  : 
to  enable  him  to  follow  his  inchnations,  and  become 
a  free  lance,  instead  of  having  to  earn  his  pay  under 
the  banner  of  some  responsible  leader  who  would  have 
curbed  his  turbulent  spirit  and  checked  him  from 
tilting  at  windmills.  As  it  was,  however,  the  hot- 
headed reformer,  eager  to  fight  for  freedom,  joined 
forces  with  Maurice,  and  together  they  took  over  the 
publication  and  the  editorship  of  the  AthencBum. 
Sterling,  already  in  sympathy  with  the  grievances  of 
the  Spanish  refugees,  wrote  on  their  behalf  many  an 
eloquent  article  in  that  review.  But  it  is  dangerous 
to  coquette  with  a  cause  ;  as  appetite  comes  with 
eating,  so  does  enthusiasm  wax  with  pleading.  When 
Sterling  first  determined  chivalrously  to  espouse  the 
cause  of  the  exiles,  he  little  dreamt  how  close  and  in- 


288        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

timate  his  union  with  them  was  destined  to  become  ; 
that  the  raid  into  their  own  country,  about  which  they 
whispered  at  first  as  of  remote  possibihty,  was  to  be 
the  great  event  of  his  Hfe,  on  which  all  his  mind  was 
to  be  set,  into  which  all  his  energies  were  to  be  thrown, 
through  which  he  was  to  experience  all  the  greater 
emotions,  hope,  joy,  ambition  and  finally  disappoint- 
ment. 

A  band  of  refugees,  driven  from  Spain  after  the 
destruction  of  the  Spanish  Royal  Constitution  in  1823, 
had  settled  in  London.  Amongst  them  were  many  of 
noble  character,  if  of  a  misguided  enthusiasm,  and 
these  were  they  who  stirred  Sterhng,  Kemble,  Trench, 
Hallam  and  Spedding  to  such  great  depths.  Carlyle 
graphically  describes  them  : — 

"  Daily  in  the  cold  spring  air,  under  skies  so  unlike 
their  own,  you  could  see  a  group  of  fifty  or  a  hundred 
stately  tragic  figures  in  proud  threadbare  cloaks,  per- 
ambulating, mostly  with  closed  lips,  the  broad  pave- 
ments of  Euston  Square  and  the  region  about  St. 
Pancras'  New  Church.  .  .  .  This  group  of  Spanish 
Exiles  was  the  Trocadero  swarm  thrown  off  in  1823, 
in  the  Risgo  and  Ouirogas  quarrel.  These  were  they 
whom  Charles  Tenth  had,  by  sheer  force,  driven  from 
their  Constitutionalisms  and  their  Trocadero  fortresses. 
.  .  .  the  acknowledged  chief  was  General  Torrijos,  a 
man  of  high  qualities  and  fortunes,  still  in  the  vigour 
of  his  years  and  in  these  desperate  circumstances  re- 
fusing to  despair." 

Sterling  was  intimately  acquainted  with  Torrijos, 
the  leader  of  his  countrymen  here  in  England,  who, 


JOHN    STERLING  289 

it  was  hoped,  would  one  day  conduct  the  group  in 
triumph  back  again  to  Spain,  there  to  upset  the  new 
dynasty  and  re-estabhsh  the  old.  He  had  met  him 
while  he  was  still  at  Cambridge,  and  had  conceived 
an  affection  for  the  man  and  an  interest  in  his  ambitions. 
When  he  came  to  London  he  took  up  the  cudgels  for 
the  refugees,  and  advocated  their  cause  whenever  he 
could.  He  made  his  friends  take  lessons  from  them 
in  Spanish  ;  he  organized  charitable  fetes  in  order  to 
assist  them  to  live,  and  he  helped  them  with  his  money 
as  well  as  with  his  partisanship.  More,  as  Cambridge 
friends  came  "  down,"  they  were  introduced  to  the 
Spaniards  and  enlisted,  first  as  pupils  in  the  language, 
then  as  devotees  to  the  "  cause."  How  many  an 
evening  must  have  seen  Hallam  and  Kemble,  and 
others  of  them,  arm  in  arm  walking  the  route  from 
Regent  Street  to  Wimpole  Street,  bright-eyed  with 
interest,  earnest  with  anticipation,  talking  in  a  chorus 
of  praise  of  Torrijos,  the  romantic  champion  of  free- 
dom, their  hero — their  idol.  It  is  sure  that  the 
principles  of  liberty,  for  which  alone  they  thought  he 
worked,  fired  them  far  more  than  did  his  programme. 
Milnes  maintained  throughout  that  the  tendency  of 
the  "  Apostles'  "  pohtics  was  in  a  totally  opposite  direc- 
tion to  that  of  the  Spaniards. 

The  exiles,  fired  by  the  enthusiasm  they  had  created 
in  these  noble  minds,  in  1829  began  to  have  greater 
yearnings  for  a  return  to  Spain  and  to  commence  to 
prepare    the   ground   over    there   for   their   re-entry. 

That  they  did  not  do  this  skilfully  is  evident,  for  they 

19— (2318) 


290        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

soon  discovered  that  "  Torrijos  had  been  suddenly  and 
without  cause  assigned,  struck  off  the  Hst  of  refugees 
who  receive  pensions  from  the  Government — no  doubt 
in  consequence  of  representations  made  by  the  Spanish 
authorities."  Combined  with  annoyance  at  new  poh- 
tical  movem.ents  in  Spain,  this  act  so  worked  on  the 
exiles  that  at  a  solemn  meeting  in  Sterling's  rooms  they 
decided  that  now  was  the  moment  to  strike,  and  that 
if  they  failed  while  striking,  death  was  preferable  to 
their  present  position.  Accordingly,  a  programme  was 
evolved.  It  was  hoped  that  if  Torrijos  were  only  once 
able  to  land  in  the  South  of  Spain  with  a  band  of 
patriotic  followers,  that  "  inflammable  Spain,  then 
groaning  under  another  tyrant,  Ferdinand  VII,  would 
fly  to  their  assistance  and  a  great  victory  be  won." 
Carlyle  says  of  this  scheme  :  "  Considering  Somers 
Town  (where  most  of  the  exiles  lived)  and  considering 
Spain,  the  terrible  chance  was  worth  trying  :  that  this 
big  game  of  Fate,  go  how  it  might,  was  one  which  the 
omens  credibly  declared  Torrijos  and  those  poor 
Spaniards  ought  to  play." 

Sterhng,  in  this  apparently  propitious  moment,  was 
brought  to  remember  a  cousin  of  his,  Robert  Boyd,  a 
gentleman  who  had  just  given  up  his  commission  in 
the  Indian  Army,  and  who  had  lately  received  a 
legacy  of  £5,000.  To  this  young  man  he  proposed 
by  letter  that  he  should  buy  an  old  royal  gun-boat 
which  was  then  going  cheap,  refit  it,  man  it,  and  go 
"  a-privateering.'  Boyd  paused  a  little,  but  being  of  a 
romantic  disposition  came  over  from  Ireland  in  order 


JOHN    STERLING  291 

to  talk  over  this  and  other  adventurous  schemes, 
and  in  John  Sterling's  rooms  he  was  caught  and 
lost. 

Introduced  to  Torrijos  and  his  adoring  crowd,  and 
carried  away  by  the  general  enthusiasm,  he  one  night 
boasted  of  his  gun-boat  lying  idle  in  an  Irish  creek ; 
whereupon  Sterling  said  to  him,  "  If  you  want  an 
adventure  of  the  sea-king  sort,  and  propose  to  lay  your 
money  and  your  life  into  such  a  game,  here  is  Torrijos 
and  Spain  at  his  back."  Boyd  and  Torrijos  quickly 
came  to  terms.  Boyd  was  promised  many  things — 
"  a  colonelcy  in  a  Spanish  regiment  "  amongst  others. 
He  was  to  get  a  ship  into  the  Thames,  then  gradually 
and  secretly  arm  and  provision  it.  Torrijos  and  fifty 
picked  Spaniards  were  to  get  to  Deal  without  causing 
comment  or  raising  alarm,  and  there  complete  their 
plans  for  the  landing  in  Spain  and  stir  up  those  likely 
to  be  useful  to  them.  The  ship  when  ready  was  to 
take  them  up  and  sail  away  to  Spain  and  victory. 
Boyd's  little  fortune  it  was  that  provided  the  financial 
sinews  for  this  great  scheme,  but  Sterling,  Hallam, 
Spedding  and  Kemble  gave  all  that  they  could  and 
made  strenuous  efforts  to  get  more,  achieving  in  this 
a  fair  amount  of  success.  Not  content  with  giving  and 
getting  money,  certain  of  them  in  their  zeal  determined 
to  take  part  in  the  fray  themselves  as  "  democratic 
volunteers  and  soldiers  of  progress." 

The  plot  was  worked  in  grim  and  steady  earnest. 
Sterling  was  so  absorbed  by  it  that  he  was  rarely  seen ; 
and  he  felt  the  weight  of  his  increased  responsibility. 


292        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

He  wrote  to  Trench,  who  was  then  travelhng  in  Spain, 
though  not  upon  this  business  : — 

"  I  often  feel  that  in  the  last  six  months  I  have 
worn  out  ten  years  of  existence.  I  sometimes  begin 
to  think  and  hope  of  things  distant.  But  all  my 
Guadalquivirs  turn  out  muddy  ditches,  and  I  have  no 
visions  of  Murillo,  or  tranquil  and  solemn  aisles  of 
meditation  to  console  me." 

But  willing,  ready,  eager  as  SterHng  was  to  accompany 
the  expedition,  to  his  bitter  disappointment,  at  the 
very  last  moment— just  as  he  had  made  all  his  pre- 
parations—his health  broke  down  completely.  He 
had  never  been  physically  robust,  and  under  the 
tremendous  strain,  bodily  as  well  as  mental,  to  which 
in  his  loyalty  to  the  cause  he  had  exposed  his  constitu- 
tion, the  real  condition  of  his  health  became  apparent. 
The  doctors  pronounced  him  to  be  in  a  consumption, 
and  positively  forbade  him  to  take  any  further  active 
part  in  the  expedition.  He  was  compelled  reluctantly 
to  yield  to  this  force  majeure,  and  agree  to  stay  behind 
to  manage  the  correspondence  and  to  collect  funds. 

And  after  this  another  calamity  befell  the  scheme. 
Everything  necessary  had  been  got  together  and  with 
secrecy  and  precision  ;  the  conspirators  were  waiting 
at  Deal,  and  the  ship  was  ready  to  sail ;  Sterling,  loath 
to  let  the  vessel  weigh  anchor  without  him,  was  wist- 
fully superintending  the  final  preparations  for  a  start, 
when  the  Thames  police  came  on  board  and  declared 
the  boat  seized  and  embargoed  in  the  King's  name  ! 


JOHN    STERLING  293 

Sterling  barely  saved  himself.  That  same  night  he 
posted  down  to  Deal  and  broke  the  news  that  there 
was  now  no  chance  of  exit  by  the  Thames  ;  but  to 
encourage  the  conspirators,  despite  the  delicate  state 
of  his  health,  he  then  and  there  took  Torrijos  in  an 
open  fishing  boat  across  the  channel  and  landed  him 
at  St.  Valery ;  whence  that  gentleman,  by  various 
curious  routes,  got  finally  to  Gibraltar,  whither  his 
Spaniards,  disbanded,  unarmed,  but  not  dismayed,  went 
one  by  one  to  join  him. 

Sterling  went  back  to  London,  disappointed  and 
disheartened.  But,  luckily,  throughout  this  trying 
period  he  was  fortified  by  the  love  and  sympathy  of 
the  noble-hearted  girl  who  afterwards  became  his 
wife.  Miss  Barton,  the  sister  of  Charles  Barton,  an 
"  Apostle."  She  it  was  who  saved  him  from  despair 
and  stimulated  him  to  renewed  efforts  in  the  cause  to 
which  she  knew  him  to  be  devoted.  In  June,  1830, 
his  "  Apostle  "  friends  set  about  to  do  their  part  to 
help  him  and  his  conspiracy.  Trench  and  Kemble 
left  London  by  different  routes  and  on  different  dates, 
but  sailed  by  the  same  ship  from  Portsmouth,  reaching 
Gibraltar  together,  with  money,  with  news,  with  in- 
structions and  with  encouragement  for  the  exiles, 
with  whom  they  awaited  the  next  shake  of  the  dice- 
box.  In  July,  Hallam  and  Tennyson  went  off  to  the 
Pyrenees  with  letters  in  cypher  and  with  money  for 
Torrijos'  confederates,  but  to  these  there  came  dis- 
illusion. Hallam,  who  had  to  deliver  certain  cypher 
messages,  as  well  as  his  own  pocket  money  and  moneys 


294        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

collected  from  friends,  discovered  that  Ojeda,the  chief 
of  the  conspiracy  working  in  the  north,  was  jealous  of 
Torrijos  working  in  the  south  ;  and  his  young  ideals  (he 
was  just  nineteen)  were  shattered  !  His  horror  that  so 
sordid  a  sentiment  should  enter  into  so  noble  an  enter- 
prise was  excessive  ;  and  this,  as  much  as  the  prolonged 
dragging  on  of  the  business,  finally  sent  him  and 
Tennyson  back  again  to  England.  Hallam,  full  of 
anxiety,  still  wrote  constantly  to  Trench  and  Kemble. 
Once  he  said  : — 

"I  know  not  whether  Blakesley  has  told  you  any- 
thmg  about  the  Tennysons.  Alfred  went,  as  you 
know,  with  me  to  the  South  of  France,  and  a  wild 
bustlmg  time  we  had  of  it.  I  played  my  part  as 
conspirator  m  a  small  way,  and  made  friends  with  two 
or  three  gallant  men,  who  have  been  since  trying  their 
luck  with  Valdes.  I  found  too  many  signs  of  that 
accursed  jealousy  which  has  since  broken  out  ;  and  a 
certain  friend  of  yours  was  looked  upon  with  no  very 
amicable  eyes.  La  Fayette  I  was  dehghted  \\ith 
Kemble's  anti-gallican  propensities  may  be  damned  • 
there  is  sterhng  stuff  in  that  man.  I  must  bid  fare- 
well. God  of  His  mercy  preserve  you  both.  Pray 
remember  me  most  earnestly  to  Kemble,  and  think 
of  me  as  one  who  sympathizes  heart  and  soul  in  your 
cause,  but  who  strongly  doubts,  or  rather  altogether 
djsbeheves,  the  practicabihty  of  success,  and  would 
therefore  fain  have  you  back  again  in  old  England  and 
old  Cambridge." 

There  now  ensued  a  period  of  hopes  and  fears  for 
all   the   home   sympathizers— especially   for   Sterling. 


JOHN    STERLING  295 

The  waiting  was  long— nearly  two  years  is  long  for 
the  young— and  at  last  their  hopes  weakened  and  died, 
while  their  fears  for  the  safety  of  their  friends— Trench, 
Kemble,  Boyd,  and  poor  picturesque  Torrijos— 
strengthened,  and  haunted  them  perpetually.  Kemble 
and  Trench  saw  grand  coups  fail  and  were  in  daily 
danger ;  indeed  they  carried  their  lives  in  their  hands. 
Though  they  felt  they  could  no  longer  be  of  much 
service  to  the  cause,  they  stayed  loyally  on  so  long  as 
there  remained  any  cause  to  serve. 

Nothing  is  more  painfully  pathetic  and  dramatic 
than  Trench's  letter,  in  which  he  tells  how  they  are 
now  at  a  crucial  point,  awaiting  success  or  failure— that 
he  will  leave  the  letter  open  for  result— then,  that  the 
result  is  failure  ! 

Trench  returned,  as  we  know,  some  time  before 
Kemble,  for  whose  safety  he  and  Hallam  continued  to 
suffer  acutely,  and  concerning  whose  fate  Hallam  was 
sometimes  in  despair.  He  wrote  to  Trench  soon  after 
his  arrival  in  England  :  "  You  have  failed  in  your 
purpose,  and  after  enduring  the  fever  and  turbulence 
of  the  means,  you  have  missed  that  end  which  might 
have  given  you  actual  peace  and  satisfied  retrospection. 
Well,  you  have  not  laboured  in  vain,  although  Spain 
is,  to  use  Kemble' s  expression,  '  willingly  and  exultingly 
enslaved.'  ...  I  am  grieved  that  Kemble  is  not  with 
you.  He  waits  you  say  until  the  end.  What  further 
end,  in  the  name  of  wonder,  can  there  be  ?  " 

But  Sterling's  distress  was  the  most  severe  of  all. 
In  spite  of  his  engagement  and  his  marriage,  the  vears 


296        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

1830  and  1831  were,  without  doubt,  the  most  unhappy 
of  his  hfe.  Although  we  find  "  One  John  SterUng  is 
to  be  niarried  on  Tuesday  next  and  will  bring  his 
g  onous  bnde  to  Oxford  for  a  few  days,"  it  was  a  time 
ot  such  discouragement  and  uncertainty  for  him,  that 
notwithstanding  Maurice's  unfailing  sympathy  his 
health  failed  so  signally  that  he  presently  went  away 
to  the  island  of  St.  Vincent,  where  he  had  some  pro- 
perty and  where  it  was  hoped  that  change  of  climate 
might  heal  his  body  and  change  of  scene  restore  his 
spirits. 

Events  presently  culminated  in  Spain.     The  English 
governor  at   Gibraltar   behaved   handsomely   to   the 
conspirators  until  the  time  came  when  it  was  considered 
that  his  harbouring  them  looked  like  a  menace  to  a 
friendly    power,    after  which  Torrijos   and  his   men 
were  courteously  offered  passports  and  British  pro- 
tection in  any  other  country  but  Spain.     But  these 
they  refused,  Torrijos  saying  only  that  he  would  soon 
leave   Gibraltar,   and    peacefully.     He   did  go    soon, 
Boyd  the  only  Englishman  left  to  the  "  cause,"  going 
with  him  ;    and  with  them  their  fifty  faithful  com- 
pamons.     In   secrecy   they  embarked  in   two   small 
vessels  ;  no  one  knew  when  they  went  or  whither  they 
were  bound  ;  but  their  silent  flight  alarmed  the  Spanish 
authorities,   who   had   them   followed   by   two   large 
cruisers.     They  were  sighted  in  the  distance,  and  the 
bigger  boats  soon  overtook  the  smaller.     "  It  was  a 
hunt,    not    a  race,"   and  Torrijos,   unable  to  reach 
Malaga,  the  port  for  which  he  was  bound,  put  in  at 


JOHN    STERLING  297 

Fuengirola,  advanced  inland,  took  possession  of  a 
farm,  barricaded  himself  within  it,  and  was  at  once 
surrounded.  He  demanded  to  treat  but  was  refused, 
and  was  at  last  compelled  to  surrender. 

All  were  made  prisoners.  Advice  was  demanded 
from  Madrid.  It  came  swiftly,  "  Mihtary  execution 
on  the  instant.  Give  them  shriving  if  they  want  it— 
that  done,  fusillade  them  all."  It  was  done.  They  were 
shot— Boyd  and  all— and  their  fate  might  easily  have 
been  the  fate  of  Trench  and  Kemble,  Hallam  and 
Tennyson  ! 

That  this  catastrophe  cast  a  gloom  over  the  Hfe  of 
Sterling  is  not  surprising.  He  wrote  to  his  brother, 
"  I  can  hear  the  sound  of  that  musketry ;  it  is  as  if 
the  bullets  were  tearing  my  own  brain." 

The  dreadful  issue  of  this  undertaking,  the  death 
of  his  cousin,  of  Torrijos,  and  many  others  whom  he 
had  known  so  closely  and  so  intimately,  caused  him 
such  self-reproach  that  to  the  end  of  his  Hfe  he  would 
never  have  the  subject  mentioned;  while  the  effect  of 
this  disappointment  and  shock  was  upon  him  for  his 
remaining  years.  Whether  it  were  the  trials  concern- 
ing Spain,  or  the  terrific  upheaval  of  nature  during  the 
great  tornado  at  St.  Vincent,  or  the  birth  of  his  child- 
he  himself  says  this  last  was  the  factor  which  most 
influenced  him— the  idea  came  and  grew  in  Sterling's 
mind  that  he  might  find  peace  in  holy  orders,  and  he 
determined  to  be  ordained.  This  decision  much  sur- 
prised and  excited  his  friends ;  and  though  most  of 
them   were   doubtful    of  such   a   development  in  so 


298        THE    CAMBRIDGE    ''APOSTLES" 

reactionary  a  nature,  all  rejoiced,  and  especially  Trench 
and  Maurice. 

But  his  shattered  health  and  hopes  had  evidently 
somewhat  weakened  his  old  self-confidence.  He  re- 
cognized in  his  soul  the  want  of  a  settled  theology,  and 
planned  to  go  to  a  German  University  and  study ; 
he  also  eagerly  re-read  the  works  of  the  modern  philo- 
sophers who  had  so  perturbed  his  mind  in  earlier  days, 
and  again  he  was  swayed  by  each  in  turn  ;  then  he 
re-studied  the  Koran,  and  even  when  he  had  arrived 
at  what  appeared  to  him  a  goal,  he  wrote  : — 

"  I  am  satisfied  of  nothing  more  entirely  than  of 
the  necessity  for  a  great  crisis  in  the  belief  of  England, 
which  will  indeed  destroy  Socialism  and  Sectarianism, 
but  will  j  ust  as  certainly  shake  off  the  Thirty-nine  Articles . 
...  If  I  saw  any  hope  that  Maurice  and  Samuel 
Wilberforce  and  their  fellows  would  reorganize  and 
reanimate  the  Church  and  nation,  or  that  their  own 
minds  could  continue  progressive  without  becoming 
revolutionary,  I  think  I  could  willingly  wrap  my  head 
in  my  cloak,  or  lay  it  in  the  grave,  without  a  word  of 
protest  against  aught  that  is." 

Ordained  deacon  in  1831,  he  very  soon  declared  he 
could  not  bear  the  "  anxiety  of  deacon's  duty,"  and  he 
became  more  and  more  unsettled  until  he  decided  he 
would  go  on  no  further  in  the  Church.  Carlyle  thought 
if  Sterling  had  gone  into  the  German  University  at 
the  time  he  thought  of  it,  and  stayed  there  the  two 
years  he  proposed,  that  much  in  him  that  was  rough 
would  have  been  made  smooth,  and  that  his  whole 


JOHN    STERLING  299 

mind  might  have  become  more  evenly  poised.  Carlyle 
also  ascribes  Sterling's  eight  months  in  the  Church, 
"  this  clerical  aberration,"  to  Coleridge.  "  Had  there 
been  no  Coleridge,  .  .  .  neither  had  this  been,  nor 
English  Puseyism  or  some  other  strange  enough 
universal  portents  been."  And  he  describes  Sterling 
as  he  saw  him  once  : — 

"  A  loose,  careless-looking,  thin  figure,  in  careless 
dim  costume,  sat,  in  a  lounging  posture,  carelessly  and 
copiously  talking.  I  was  struck  with  the  kindly  but 
restless  swift-glancing  eyes,  which  looked  as  if  the 
spirits  were  all  out  coursing  like  a  pack  of  merry  eager 
beagles,  beating  every  bush  ;  the  brow,  rather  sloping 
in  form,  was  not  of  imposing  character  ;  though  again 
the  head  was  longish,  which  is  always  the  best  sign  of 
intellect ;  the  physiognomy  in  general  indicated  anima- 
tion rather  than  strength." 

John  Sterling  so  loved  work  that  he  at  one  time 
wished  *'  for  a  sprain  that  he  might  have  time  to  read 
and  speculate  a  httle."  He  had  the  great  mental 
vigour  which  so  often  accompanies  the  consumptive 
disposition.  Intellectual  employment  was  necessary 
to  him  ;  and  when  he  was  not  originating  he  was 
criticizing.  In  signing  his  articles  in  Blackwood 
"  S.S.S."  he  said  he  did  it  for  the  pleasure  it  would  give 
so  many  people  to  turn  the  first  S  into  an  "A." 

His  short  whimsical  compositions  are  still  fresh  and 
fantastic,  but  his  longer  efforts,  such  as  the  Onyx 
Ring,  are  old-fashioned  and  flat,  though  all  bear  the 
impression  of  power  and  individuality.     His  work  is 


300        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

too  dogmatic  in  flavour  to  be  popular.  His  critical 
essays  are  exceptionally  fine  and  valuable  as  allying 
clear  insight  with  honesty  of  purpose.  His  starthng 
article  upon  Tennyson  is  unique  for  its  alternations  of 
praise  and  blame  ;  he  could  even  convey  the  two  in  one 
short  paragraph,  as  when  he  says,  "  Emotion,  the 
most  general  and  obvious,  the  necessary  impulse  of  all 
poetry  in  every  age,  is  restrained  in  all  his  writings  by 
the  awful  presence  of  self-centred  will.  ...  It  is 
clear  that  his  feelings  are  always  strictly  watched  by 
his  meditative  conscience,  too  strictly,  not  for  wisdom 
but  for  rapture." 

Not  having  himself  the  ''  meditative  conscience  "  he 
scarcely  knew  when  he  was  abusing  his  friends,  but 
his  praise  was  wide  and  generous.  "  I  have  been 
reading  again  some  of  Alfred  Tennyson's  second 
volume,  and  with  profound  admiration  of  his  truly 
lyric  and  idyllic  genius,  there  seems  to  me  to  have 
been  more  power  in  Keats,  that  fiery,  beautiful  meteor  ; 
but  they  are  two  most  true  and  great  poets." 

His,  as  Carlyle  calls  them,  "habits  of  hterature" 
were  never  settled  and  never  of  much  use  to  him. 
This  may  have  been  due  to  the  restless  life  necessitated 
by  his  ill-health.  The  public  did  not  care  particularly 
for  his  works  ;  all  through  his  career  his  personality 
seems  to  have  been  his  principal  charm.  As  a  poet 
he  had  the  heartiest  admiration  of  Tennyson  who  was 
thinking  of  Sterling  when  he  wrote :  "  You  might 
have  won  the  poet's  name."  Sterling  himself  hked 
his  own  poems,  for  he  said  :   "  Of  all  my  contemporary 


JOHN    STERLING  301 

friends,  I  am  not  aware  that  there  is  one  who  thinks 
me  entitled  to  write  verses,  except  Trench,  and  I  know 
there  is  a  great  presumption  in  favour  of  their  judg- 
ment, but  I  turn  so  spontaneously  and  joyously  to  this 
mode  of  expression  that  I  am  loath  to  relinquish  it." 

Once  he  said,  "  On  the  whole,  poetry  is  well-nigh 
dead  among  us  :  it  counts  for  nothing  among  the 
great '^working  forces  of  the  age,"  and  he  adds  that  "  an 
Oxford  man,  a  Mr.  Faber,  was  the  only  one  who  showed 
any  true  poetic  feeling."  ''  I  have  had  a  most  cordial 
letter  from  Emerson,  thanking  me  for  my  poems. 
They  must  improve  much  in  a  voyage  over  the  Atlantic, 
for  he  writes  of  them  in  a  way  quite  unlike  any  other 
eulogies  that  have  reached  me." 

In  order  to  meet  his  friends  when  in  London  on 
business  connected  with  literature,  "  a  small  select 
number  of  people  whom  it  would  be  nice  to  meet  and 
to  whom  it  would  be  pleasant  to  talk,"  he  founded  a  club 
in  1838,  when  he  was  living  at  Blackheath.  James 
Spedding  was  secretary,  and  early  in  its  career  he  writes 
to  Donne  : — 

"  Sterling  has  been  endeavouring  to  get  up  a  Club 
which  is  to  exist  for  the  purpose  of  dining  together 
once  a  month.  The  dinner  is  to  be  cheap,  the  attend- 
ance not  compulsory,  the  day  and  the  place  fixed,  and 
the  members  chosen  unanimously  from  the  witty,  the 
worthy,  the  wise  and  the  inspired — and  it  is  hoped 
that  the  Society  will  sooner  or  later  combine  within 
itself  as  much  of  the  wit,  worth,  wisdom  and  inspira- 
tion of  the  age  as  can  live  together  in  Apostolic 
harmony. 


302        THE    CAMBRIDGE    ''APOSTLES" 

"  Being  able  to  agree  upon  no  name  at  all,  we 
christened  ourselves  for  the  present  Anonymous. 
Being  unable  to  fix  upon  a  place,  it  was  left  to  me  to 
make  inquiries,  and  I  have  fixed  for  the  present  upon 
Wills'  Coffee  House,  which  stands  conveniently  near 
to  my  rooms. 

"  The  Society  consists  at  present  of  the  following 
names  : — 

Bingham  Baring,  Hon.  W. 

Blakesley  (Apostle). 

Boxall,  W.  (Painter). 

Carlyle,  T.  (French  Revolution). 

Colville  (Trinity  man  of  my  standing.  Apostle). 

W.   Donne   (Old   Platonic   clergyman — friend   of 
Sterling's ;    refused  bishopric). 

Eastlake,  C.  L.  (Painter). 

Elliott  (capital  fellow,  Emigration  Agent  General). 

Copley  Fielding  (Painter). 

Hare,  Rev.  J.  G. 

Douglas  Heath  (Apostle). 

H.  Lushington  (Apostle). 

Lord  Lyttelton  (clever  young  man,  with  a  mind 
of  his  own,  senior  medallist). 

Macarthy  (Roman  Catholic). 

Maiden  (History  of  Rome  in  L.U.K.) 

Mill,  John. 

Milnes,  R.  M.  (Apostle). 

Monteith,  R.  (Apostle  ;    candidate  for  Glasgow, 
splendid  fellow). 

Spedding     (secretary     and     orderer     of     dinner. 
Apostle). 

Sterling  (Apostle). 

A.  Tennyson  (Apostle). 

Thompson,  Rev.  W.  H.  (Apostle). 

Venables,  G.  S.  (Apostle). 


JOHN    STERLING  303 

Wood,  Samuel  (Newmanite). 

Worsley  (Vice-Chancellor  of  Cambridge). 

**  In  addition  to  these  it  was  proposed  last  meeting 
to  invite  the  following  gents  to  become  members  : — 
W.  B.  Donne  (Apostle). 
George  Cornwall  Lewis. 
Stafford  O'Brien. 
Sir  F.  Palgrave. 
Rio  (Kemble). 
Thirlwall  (Apostle). 
Allan  Cunningham. 
Alexander  EUice. 
R.  Trench  (Apostle). 
Sir  Edmund  Head. 
Richard  Cavendish. 

"  The  meetings  are  to  happen  on  the  last  Tuesday 
in  each  month.  The  dinner  to  cost  only  7s.  a  head. 
No  forfeits  for  non-attendance,  but  notice  of  intention 
to  attend  to  be  given  the  day  before.  Members  may 
be  proposed  and  elected  next  Tuesday  without  notice 
and  by  acclamation.  But  no  election  to  take  place 
afterwards  except  by  ballot  (a  single  blackball  to 
exclude)  except  notice  has  been  given  the  previous 
meeting  and  except  in  January  and  the  five  following 
months. 

"  How  say  you — will  you  be  of  us  ? 

"  I  have  concluded  abruptly.  But  silence,  accord- 
ing to  Carlyle,  includes  all  things  that  are  not  uttered, 
and  is  therefore  much  richer  than  speech.  Think  of 
all  I  have  not  said  and  this  letter  will  supply  you  with 
much  profitable  meditation." 

Blakesley,  working  with  Spedding,  said  when  he  was 
commissioned  to  get  members,  ''  Two  have  taken  the 


304        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

shilling  with  great  alacrity,  viz.  Lyttelton  and  Field- 
ing." Maurice  refused,  but  joined  after.  The  name 
of  the  Club  was  soon  changed  from  ''Anonymous  "  to  the 
"  Sterling  "  ;  but  when,  by  and  by,  it  was  supposed 
that  the  opinions  of  its  members  had  become  too 
strong,  and  the  indignant  Record  had  implied  that  all 
who  belonged  to  it  were  infidels,  it  was  changed^'again. 
Maurice  said  concerning  the  Record  and  that  trying  time, 
"  What  do  you  think  is  the  last  charge  ?  that  three 
Wilberforces,  Manning,  Allen,  Julius  Hare,  three 
writers  in  Punch,  Trench  and  I,  belong  to  a  Club 
established  in  honour  of  Sterling,"  and  he  goes  on  to 
say  that  when  Sterling  thought  his  own  views  had  become 
what  might  be  considered  offensive  he  had  wished  some 
other  name  to  be  adopted,  but  that  his  friends  had 
unanimously  said  as  the  meetings  were  strictly  private 
and  they  only  connected  with  the  Club  by  private 
sentiments  towards  himself,  they  would  not  have 
its  title  altered.  Brookfield,  of  this  event,  says  to  his 
mother  : — 

"  You  ask  me  *  what  the  advocates  for  the  Sterling 
Club  say,'  etc.  I  should  think  they  spare  themselves 
the  trouble  of  saying  anything  at  all.  I  do  not  know 
anything  less  likely  to  make  them  uneasy  than  the 
spite  of  the  Record,  which  I  have  heard  of  but  not  seen. 
That  the  Bishop  of  Oxford  said  grace  the  only  time  I 
happen  to  know  of  his  being  there,  I  can  answer  for, 
and  could  repeat  the  words.  I  perceive  on  looking  at 
the  hst  that  the  last  dinner  for  1849  stands  fixed  for 
December  25,  simply  because  the  secretary  has  taken 
his  pocket  book  and  put  down  the  date  of  each  last 


JOHN    STERLING  305 

Tuesday  in  the  month  (the  dining  day)  and  inad- 
vertently put  December  25  with  the  rest,  not  remem- 
bering that  it  would  be  Christmas  Day,  which  cer- 
tainly would  not  have  been  appointed,  if  for  no  other 
reason  than  that  everybody  dines  somewhere  else  if  he 
has  the  luck  on  that  day.  But  certainly  it  would  per- 
plex yourself  or  anybody  else  to  find  any  law,  human 
or  divine,  written  or  customary,  which  could  make  it 
desecration  for  a  Club  to  dine  on  that  day  if  they  were 
so  disposed — which  for  domestic  reasons  I  should 
think  no  Club  is.  As  for  there  being  any  Infidels  in 
the  Club,  I  should  think  that  in  a  society  of  seventy 
or  eighty  persons,  some  of  them  at  least  men  of  in- 
telligence, there  are  very  probably  members  who 
differ  in  religious  sentiment  from  the  Record,  which  I 
suppose  comes  to  the  same  thing.  But  I  never  heard 
of  anybody  amongst  them  to  whom  that  title  was 
applied.  If,  however,  they  are  *  notorious,'  you  must 
know  them. 

"  For  the  rest,  it  was  set  on  foot  by  John  Sterling 
eleven  years  ago.  The  purpose  was  to  have  a  monthly 
rendezvous,  at  very  small  expense,  of  persons  likely  to 
make  a  pleasant  Mess,  chiefly  of  literary  character,  or 
of  a  tendency  that  way.  I  was  elected  without  my 
knowledge  eight  years  ago,  and  have  dined  there  once 
or  twice  a  year  ever  since  and  hope  to  continue  to  do 
so.  I  should  not  think  the  Society  is  likely  to  take  its 
instructions  from  the  Record,  whom  it  shall  admit  or 
exclude,  or  by  what  name  it  shall  be  called." 

The  name  was  changed  after  this  hubbub  to  the 
"  Tuesday  "or  '*  Dinner  "  Club.  One  of  the  minutes 
during  its  "  Sterling  "^period  shows  rather  humorously 
the  apparent  simplicity  of  its  aims  and  customs  ; — • 

30— (3318) 


3o6        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

"  The  Sterling  Club. 

"  Mr.  Green's  fresh  paint  makes  him  unapproach- 
able, whereby  all  the  statutes  ^  are  nullified.  The 
Secretary  is  gone  over  to  Rome  (though  only  for  the 
winter)  and  the  Club  is  thus  left  without  Law  or 
Government,  under  these  circumstances  a  Rumpsteak 
Committee  has  been  appointed  to  look  to  the  Repub- 
lick;  it  consists  of  all  who  choose  to  dine  at  Mr.  Green's, 
Covent  Garden,  at  7  o'clock  next  Tuesday.  Steaks, 
stout  and  ale  ad  lib.  for  5s.  6d.  a  head  ;  those  who 
drink  wine  do  so  on  their  own  responsibility. 

Some  of  Sterhng's  "  Crystals  "  are  sound  enough  in 
spirit,  such  as  :  "  We  'perpetually  fancy  ourselves  in- 
tellectually transparent  when  we  are  opaque,  and  morally 
opaque  when  we  are  transparent.''  "  There  is  no  lie 
that  many  men  will  not  believe  ;  there  is  no  man  who 
does  not  believe  many  lies  ;  and  there  is  no  man  who 
believes  only  lies!'  "  One  dupe  is  as  impossible  as  one 
twin." 

It  was  supposed  that  the  more  Sterling  got  under 
the  influence  of  Carlyle  the  more  he  cut  himself  from 
his  friends  ;  yet,  he  was  able  to  look  at  the  philosopher 
from  a  distance  and  say,  "  Carlyle  preaches  'silence' 
through  a  trumpet,  and  proclaims  *  good  will  to  men  ' 
by  mouth  of  cannon."  While  Carlyle  said  of  Ster- 
ling's mind,  that  it  "  went  like  a  Kangaroo."  These 
two  great  personalities  could  tilt  against  each  other 
without  great  ill  effects  on  either  side.      Carlyle  wrote 

^  The  Club  shall  dine  at  Mr.  Green's 
On  giving  Mr.  Green  notice. 


JOHN    STERLING  307 

his  splendid  life  of  Sterling  with  generous  magnanimity, 
ignoring  the  article  his  friend  had  hurled  at  him,  and 
which  Sterling  himself  called  "  unfortunately  harsh  and 
exaggerated";  and  when  Sterling's  end  was  near,  he 
informed  some  one  with  joy,  "  There  was  a  note  from 
Carlyle  not  long  since,  I  think  the  noblest  and  ten- 
derest  thing  that  ever  came  from  human  pen." 

It  is  the  fashion  now  to  call  John  Sterling  mediocre; 
but  as  he  impressed  the  people  of  his  time  with  his 
brilliant  profundity,  we  may  leave  it  that  he  was  as 
Carlyle,  who  knew  and  admired  him,  says  : — 

"  True,  above  all,  one  may  call  him  ;  a  man  of  per- 
fect veracity  in  thought,  word  and  deed.  Integrity 
towards  all  men — nay,  integrity  had  ripened  with  him 
into  chivalrous  generosity  :  there  was  no  guile  or 
baseness  anywhere  found  in  him.  Transparent  as 
crystal,  he  could  not  hide  anything  sinister,  if  such 
there  had  been  to  hide.  A  more  perfectly  transparent 
soul  I  have  never  known.  It  was  beautiful  to  read  all 
those  interior  movements  :  the  little  shades  of  affec- 
tations, ostentations ;  transient  spurts  of  anger,  which 
never  grew  to  the  length  of  settled  spleen  :  all  so 
naive,  so  childlike,  the  very  faults  grew  beautiful  to 
you." 


CHAPTER  XIV 

ALFRED   TENNYSON 

The  Poet  in  a  golden  hour  was  born, 

With  golden  stars  above  ; 
Dowered  with  the  hate  of  hate,  the  scorn  of  scorn, 
The  love  of  love. 

(Alfred  Tennyson.) 
I  would  be 
A  poet,  were't  but  for  this  linked  delight. 
This  consciousness  of  noble  brotherhood, 
Whose  joy  no  heaps  of  earth  can  bury  up, 
No  worldly  venture  minish  or  destroy, 
For  it  is  higher,  than  to  be  personal ! 

(Arthur  Hallam.) 
A  noble  friend,  a  rare  one, 
A  noble  being  full  of  clearest  insight. 

{Ibid.) 

It  is  difficult  to  define  with  precision  what  constitutes 
a  Great  Man.  Most  people,  if  asked,  would  take  refuge 
in  illustration  and  reply,  "  So-and-so  is  a  great  man." 
The  likeliest  name  to  occur  as  an  apt  and  complete 
example,  carrying  conviction  in  its  very  sound  would 
be  Alfred  Tennyson,  whose  greatness  as  a  man  was 
quite  independent  of  his  genius  as  a  poet.  He  would 
have  been  a  great  man  though  he  had  never  written  a 
verse.  He  had  the  nobility,  the  strength,  the  indi- 
viduality and  the  complacency   of   greatness.     There 


Alfred  Tennyson 

From  the  portrait  by  Samuel  Laurence 


ALFRED    TENNYSON  309 

was  nothing  small  about  him— not  even  diffidence  as 
to  abilities,  qualms  as  to  results  nor  deference  to  popu- 
lar opinion.  He  had  also  the  presence  of  a  great  man ; 
he  was  strikingly  handsome,  as  all  the  world  knows' 
splendid  of  face  and  strong  of  Hmb.  Carlyle  describes 
him  as  "  One  of  the  finest-looking  men  in  the  world  "  • 
and  again  in  a  dourer  mood,  as  "  A  life-guardsman 
spoilt  by  making  poetry,"  while  to  all  he  seemed  to 
realize  the  poetic  ideal  in  appearance. 

He  went  to  Cambridge  in  the  October  term  of  1827, 
at  the  same  time  as  those  two  other  remarkable  men' 
Monckton    Milnes    and   James   Spedding.     AU    three 
soon  took  their  places,  as  by  right,  in  the  splendid 
mtellectual   set   already   there   prepared   to   welcome 
them— who    numbered    amongst    them    such    gifted 
youths   as   Kemble,   Blakesley,   Buller,   Sterling   and 
Trench.     And  in  the  following  spring  these  were  joined 
by  another  genius,  destined  in  his  short  life  to  exert 
an  ennobhng  influence  and  to  make  an  indehble  im- 
pression  upon   all   their  characters;    who    with   his 
polished  manners,  courtly  ways  and  warm  sympathy 
had  the  power  of  fostering  friendship  all  round  him' 
It  was  Arthur  Hallam  who  contrived,  by  his  gentle 
domination,  to  unite  that  wonderful  band  of  men- 
all  poets  by  temperament,  all  full  of  brilliant  promise 
but  all  of  various  humours  and  dispositions— by  bonds 
of  youthful  friendship,  stronger  far  than  any  time- 
worn  family  ties.     The  activity  of  these  earnest  young 
mmds,  their  independence  and  eagerness  to  make  their 
way  in  the  world  had  a  stimulating  effect  upon  Tenny- 


310        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

son's  mind,  at  that  time  inclined  to  be  lethargic. 
They  gave  him  a  sense  of  responsibility  ;  for  the  first 
time  in  his  life  he  began  under  these  influences  to 
think  for  himself,  and  to  decide  what  his  future  career 
should  be  ;  and,  impelled  by  their  cordial  enthusiasm 
for  his  poetic  genius,  to  commence  to  tesselate  the 
path  along  which  he  was  to  wind  his  way  to  fame. 

Tennyson  was  undoubtedly  born  under  a  "  golden" 
star.  He  was  especially  fortunate  in  his  friends — not 
merely  because  they  were  brilliant  and  remarkable 
men,  but  because  his  own  innate  greatness  of  soul 
drew  forth  from  them  an  unswerving  devotion  and 
loyal  support.  A  man  of  moods,  as  a  poet  is  prone 
to  be,  he  had  around  him  this  circle  of  cheerful 
friends,  always  eager  to  drive  away  the  shadows  from 
his  soul,  and  flood  his  mind  with  gladness.  Not  that 
their  warm  love  for  him  blinded  them  to  his  personal 
eccentricities,  which  seem,  indeed,  to  have  jarred 
considerably  upon  some  of  the  more  precise  of  his 
intimates.  Their  remonstrances,  however,  on  the  rare 
occasions  that  they  ventured  upon  them,  were  of  no 
avail  with  their  somewhat  spoilt  favourite.  When, 
for  instance,  Douglas  Heath  mustered  courage  enough 
to  suggest  to  him  that  a  clean  shirt  might  be  an 
advantage,  the  reply  he  received  from  the  poet — 
determined  to  defend  himself  on  one  side  if  not  on 
another — was  "  H'm,  yours  would  not  be  as  clean  as 
mine  if  you  had  worn  it  a  fortnight." 

Mrs.  Ritchie  says  :  "  Whewell  used  to  pass  over  in 
Alfred  Tennyson  certain  informalities  and  forgetful- 


ALFRED    TENNYSON  311 

ness  of  combinations  as  to  gowns  and  places  and  times 
which  in  another  he  would  never  have  overlooked." 
The  use  of  tobacco  was  not  yet  fashionable  in  those 
days ;  it  was  even  considered  "  ungentlemanly." 
Tennyson  was  a  slave  to  the  "  weed  "  to  the  despair 
of  his  friends,  many  of  whom,  however,  became  them- 
selves, a  few  years  later,  confirmed  smokers.  His  friend 
Blakesley  once  wrote  :  "  Alfred  Tennyson  has  been 
with  us  for  the  last  week.  He  is  looking  well  and  in 
good  spirits,  but  complains  of  nervousness.  How 
should  it  be  otherwise  seeing  that  he  smokes  the 
strongest  and  most  stinking  tobacco  out  of  a  small 
blackened  old  pipe  on  an  average  nine  hoift-s  every 
day."  In  after  life  Tennyson  retaliated  and  said  that 
Cambridge  men  were  all  "smoke-sotted";  but  the 
Cambridge  men  had  had  the  first  word  and  even  Lush- 
ington  said  that  "  Alfred  wasted  himself  in  cigars." 

But  his  young  friends'  sensitiveness  to  these  trifling 
solecisms  of  the  poet,  never  affected  their  devotion 
to  the  man,  and  for  this  he  was  ever  grateful.  For  no 
man  ever  lived  to  whom  affection  was  such  a  necessity. 
Tennyson,  great  in  everything,  was  greatest  in  friend- 
ship. Sometimes  he  nursed  in  silent  happiness  his 
fondness  for  his  especial  intimates  ;  sometimes  his 
love  burst  from  him  in  beautiful  eulogy  or  lament, 
like  the  song  of  the  nightingale.  And,  although  his 
Lyrics  and  Idylls  command  our  admiration,  it  is  his 
Sonnets  and  Elegies  which  win  our  love.  Our  hearts 
must  needs  go  forth  to  the  author  of  such  tributes  of 
affection  as  the  lines  to  "  J.M.K."  (the  vigorous  John 


312        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

Mitchell Kemble), to  "J.S."  (James  Spedding, hardest- 
headed  and  softest-hearted  of  all  the  "  Apostles,"  the 
death  of  whose  beloved  brother  drew  from  Tennyson 
his  first  memorial  poem),  and,  in  later  days,  his  lines 
to  Maurice  and  Brookfield.  The  stones  the  poet  has 
raised  to  others  form  the  finest  cairn  to  his  memory. 

One  of  the  favourite  relaxations  of  "  the  set  "  seem 
to  have  been  the  hearing,  the  reading,  the  copying  out 
of  **  Alfred's  "  verse.  The  days  on  which  he  produced 
something  fresh — not  necessarily  a  complete  perfected 
poem,  the  germ  of  one  was  enough  for  them — were 
red-letter  days  with  these  enthusiasts  ;  and  those  who 
could  not  assemble  to  hear  the  latest  effort  had  por- 
tions sent  to  them,  with  a  bidding  to  come  on  the 
first  opportunity  "  to  talk  it  over."  Copies  and  copies 
of  his  poems  were  always  to  be  found  going  about 
Cambridge.  It  was  like  the  old  monastic  work — a 
labour  of  love — and  they  each  of  them  made  and 
distributed  more  than  one  copy. 

Although  they  all  wrote  poems — some  of  conspicuous 
merit — there  was  but  one  opinion  as  to  the  standing 
of  the  giant  in  their  midst.  Brookfield,  who  came 
"  up  "in  1829,  came  with  his  portfolio  full  of  credit- 
able verse,  which  he  promptly  hid  for  ever ;  but  if  he 
suppressed  his  own  endeavours,  he  coaxed  and  en- 
treated and  obtained  poetic  expression  both  from 
Tennyson  and  from  Hallam.  "  Won't  you  write  me  a 
sonnet,  Alfred  ?  Hallam  has  just  written  me  one." 
Both  admitted  that  they  owed  much  to  his  lively 
stimulus.     He  would  sit  while  Alfred  toyed  with  his 


ALFRED    TENNYSON  313 

favourite  pet — a  tame  snake — and  fan  the  embers  of 
the  poet's  imagination  into  flame  ;   or  he  would  pace 
up  and  down  the  avenue  of  limes  behind  Trinity  with 
Arthur  and  lift  his  fancy  into  flight  ;    and  twenty 
years  later — and  more — Brookfield  could  still  recall, 
word  for  word,  many  of  these  precious  talks  with  his 
two   cherished   friends.     On   the   celebrated   occasion 
when  Cambridge  magnanimously  took  pity  on  Oxford 
and  sent  forth  a  deputation  to  draw  her  attention  to 
the  beauties  of  other  poets  than  Byron,  Brookfield, 
although  not  a  chosen  representative,  assisted  them  in 
preparing  for  their  mission.     He  selected  quotations 
from  Shelley's  "  Adonais,"   as  well  as  from  Byron's 
"  Cain,"  and  slipped  in  amongst  them  aptly  chosen 
passages,  full  of  new  music  and  fresh  beauty,  from 
the  unknown  works ,  of  his  friend  Alfred  Tennyson. 
For  as  Milnes  was  the  enthusiastic  quoter  and  eulogist 
of  Brookfield  and  all  his  jests,  so  was  Brookfield  the 
rapturous  reporter  and  panegyrist  of  Tennyson  and  all 
his  works.     That  little  Cambridge  set  would  see  merit 
only  within  their  own  magic  circle.     It  was  at  a  meeting 
which  they  held  to  discuss  a  line  of  Alfred's — "  Draw- 
ing all  things  towards  its  brightness  as  flame  draws 
air  " — that  one  of  them  remarked,  "  We  really  ought 
not  to  be  so  fastidious  in  men."     Their  enthusiasm 
spread  beyond  the  gates  of  Trinity,  for  we  find  at  the 
Cambridge     Union     the     question     was     discussed  : 
"  Tennyson  or  Milton — which  is  the  greater  poet  ?  " 
Arthur  Hallam  being  naturally  the  eloquent  advocate 
of  his  friend.    Milton  appears  to  have  been  the  only 


314        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

poet  of  sufficient  magnitude  to  bear  comparison  in 
the  eyes  of  these  zealous  young  disciples  with  the  poet 
in  their  midst.  Milnes  says  of  Tennyson's  Timbuctoo, 
that  it  "  has  made  a  sensation,  it  is  certainly  equal 
to  most  parts  of  Milton." 

When  Alfred  became  an  *'  Apostle  "  Kemble  said 
'  The  Society  has  received  a  great  addition  in  Hallam 
and  in  Alfred  Tennyson,  the  author  of  the  last  prize 
poem,  '  Timbuctoo,'  truly  one  of  the  mighty  of  the 
earth.  You  will  be  dehghted  with  him  when  you  see 
him."  In  the  "  Society  "  he  was  more  fond  of  listening 
than  of  talking.  He  had  the  sensitiveness  of  the  artis- 
tic temperament  and  a  certain  aloofness,  which  was 
not  shyness  ;  but  when  he  was  aroused  from  reverie 
to  speech,  it  was  the  joy  of  the  set  to  listen  to  him  or 
to  Hallam  as  either  lolled  upon  the  hearthrug  and 
held  forth.  His  one  essay,  which  he  never  got  through, 
was  always  rallyingly  held  up  against  him.  His  son 
says  he  was  too  shy  [to  dehver  this  effort,  but  it  is 
possible  that  in  the  writing  of  it  he  never  got  beyond 
the  Prologue — a  fine  vigorous  piece  of  prose. 

To  Donne,  who  had  already  gone  "  down,"  Tennant, 
at  the  time  of  the  pubhcation  of  the  Poems  by  Two 
Brothers,  wrote  : — 

"  If  I  delay  any  longer  to  answer  your  kind  letter, 
having  already  delayed  an  age,  the  probability  is  that 
you  will  wait  till  latter  Lammas  or  the  Greek  Kalends. 
I  wish,  however,  solely  to  impress  upon  you  a  '  deep 
sense  of  the  awful  responsibihty  which  Hes  upon  you  ' 
of  instructing  me  in   the  right   way  by   Apostolical 


ALFRED   TENNYSON  315 

epistles,  and  also  of  having  an  unwavering  faith  (for 
he  that  wavereth  is  like  a  wave  of  the  sea,  driven  with 
the  wind  and  tossed)  (N.B.— our  translators  were 
punsters)  in  my  having  actually  and  indeed  answered 
each  and  every  letter  as  soon  as  it  comes  to  hand  ; 
and  if  you  have  such  faith,  so  it  will  be,  though  I  may 
perhaps  never  put  pen  to  paper — '  for  all  things  are 
as  they  seem  to  all,'  according  to  the  Flowing  Philoso- 
phers. I  think  your  judgment  of  Charles  Tennyson's 
sonnets  exceedingly  judicious  and  wise,  and  to  hold 
such  an  opinion  argues  a  mind  above  the  common 
run  ;  /  hold  the  same  opinion  myself.  What  astonishes 
me  is  that  they  should  ever  have  been  written  by 
Charles  Tennyson  :  he  is  not  the  light-haired  one 
whom  you  were  introduced  to  so  many  times,  but  a 
younger  one,  very  dark-haired  and  more  of  a  humorist 
than  a  poet,  although  this  volume  is  a  sufficient  proof 
of  the  very  high  character  of  his  poetic  powers.  Next 
to  his  brother  Alfred  (the  Timbuctoo  poet)  I  think  he 
is  by  far  the  greatest  poet  that  I  have  yet  found  in 
our  generation.  Hallam  appears  to  me,  notwith- 
standing very  many  passages  of  great  beauty  in  his 
meditative  pieces,  to  have  a  mind  rather  philosophical 
than  poetical.  I  believe  you  will  receive  from  him  a 
volume  of  poems  which  he  intended  to  publish  but 
changed  his  mind  after  they  were  printed.  Read 
particularly  the  Meditative  Fragments,  the  Sonnets, 
and  the  lines  about  A  Child  upon  a  Highland  Moor,  which 
last  I  think  are  especially  beautiful. 

"  My  letter  was  to  have  gone  with  Hallam's  book, 
Hallam's  book  has  waited  for  Bridge's  parcel,  and 
Bridge's  parcel  delayed  its  Agoing  ;  argal  my  letter 
also  hath  delayed  its  going  ;  and  the  whole  case  is 
very  similar  to  the  pig  driver  and  his  pig — *  pig  get 
over  the  style.'      I  used  to  think  it  very  singular  that 


3i6       THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

you  had  not  read  Chnstabel,  and  very  glad  now  to 
hear  you  swear  yourself  horribly  in  love  with  her  •  in 
my  opinion  it  is  a  fragment  of  more  touching  beauty 
and  a  more  true  and  living  creation  than  any  poem 

^m""^-  ^  i?'lH  ^^y^  ^^  ^^^-  I  ^^cept  the  A7zcient 
Manner  which  I  consider  equal  to  it  in  a  very  different 
world  of  poetry,  and  when  I  read  them  and  compare 
them  together  I  am  amazed  at  their  being  the  produc- 
tions of  the  same  man.  These  two  force  me  to  place 
Coleridge  at  the  head  of  all  modern  poets,  although  I 
am  not  quite  sure  that  Keats  had  not  in  him  the  seeds 
of  even  a  higher  excellence.  I  judge  chiefly  from  his 
bL  Agnes  Eve,  Isabella  and  miscellaneous  poems 
bhelley  also  was  an  incomplete  character  :  his  own 
hery  passions  prevented  him  from  creating:  he  was 
forced  back  into  himself,  to  think  of  his  own  wants 
and  his  own  sufferings.  I  used  to  say  that  he  would 
have  been  a  great  foet  if  he  had  been  a  good  man  •  but 
a  better  acquaintance  with  his  writing  has  taught  me 
to  apply  more  accurately  to  his  character  what  a 
better  acquaintance  with  men  has  taught  me  to  iudee 
respecting  facts.  ^     ^ 

"You  must  by  this  time  be  tolerably  tired  of  all  this 
critical  stu«,  and  as  by  a  singular  coincidence  I  also 
happen  to  be  tired,  I  will  leave  off." 

The  whole  set  were  fond  of  using  expressions  which 
were  purely  the  poet's  own.  In  a  note  to  "  Olpiovre,  " 
one  of  his  earhest  poems,  Tennyson  said  :  "  Argal— 
This  very  opinion  is  only  true  relatively  to  the  flowing 
philosophers."  It  was  from  the  last  verse  of  this  that 
Tennant  quoted  : — 

There  is  no  rest,  no  calm,  no  pause 
Nor  good  nor  ill,  nor  light  nor  shade. 
Nor  essence  nor  eternal  laws  : 
For  nothing  is  but  all  is  made. 


ALFRED   TENNYSON  317 

But  if  I  dream  that  all  these  are, 
They  are  to  me  for  that  I  dream. 
For  all  things  are  as  they  seem  to  all, 
And  all  things  flow  like  a  stream. 

The  close  friend  as  well  as  the  ardent  admirer  of 
Tennyson,  it  was  naturally  upon  Arthur  Hallam  that 
the  honour  devolved  of  being  the  munificent  godparent 
to  the  poet's  early  literary  offspring.  He  took  the 
keenest  interest  in  launching  the  works  he  appreciated 
so  highly  and  wrote  with  enthusiasm  about  them  and 
their  author.  ''He  is  a  true  and  thorough  poet,  if 
ever  there  was  one ;  though  I  fear  his  book  is  far  too 
good  to  be  popular,  yet  I  have  full  faith  that  he  has 
thrown  out  sparks  that  will  kindle  somewhere  and  will 
vivify  young  generous  hearts  in  the  days  that  are 
coming  to  a  clearer  perception  of  what  is  beautiful  and 
good."  While  negotiating  with  Moxon  over  the  pub- 
lication of  Alfred's  next  poems,  Hallam  writes  to  his 
friend  : — 

"  I  have  been  expecting  for  some  days  an  answer  to 
my  letter  about  Moxon ;  but  I  shall  not  delay  any  longer 
my  reply  to  your  last,  and  before  this  is  sent  off  yours 
may  come.  I,  whose  imagination  is  to  yours  as  Pisgah 
to  Canaan,  the  point  of  distant  prospect  to  the  place  of 
actual  possession,  am  not  without  some  knowledge 
and  experience  of  your  passion  for  the  past.  To  this 
community  of  feeling  between  us,  I  probably  owe  your 
inestimable  friendship,  and  those  blessed  hopes  which 
you  have  been  the  indirect  occasion  of  awakening. 
But  what  with  you  is  universal  and  all-powerful,  ab- 
sorbing your  whole  existence,  communicating  to  you 
that  energy  which  is  so  glorious,  in  me  is  checked  and 


3i8        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

counteracted  by  many  other  impulses,  already  less 
vivacious  by  nature.  .  .  .  You  say  pathetically, 
Alas  for  me  !  I  have  more  of  the  Beautiful  than  the 
Crood  !  Remember  to  your  comfort  that  God  has 
given  you  to  see  the  difference.  Many  a  poet  has  ^one 
on  blindly  m  his  artist  pride." 

It  was  Arthur  Hallam's  delight  to  take  Tennyson 
with  him  on  various  travels  and  rambles  abroad.  At 
the  time  of  the  Spanish  business,  they  joined  in  the 
conspiracy  to  the  extent  of  carrying  money  and 
messages  to  Seiior  Ojeda  and  a  group  of  revolution- 
aries whose  headquarters  were  in  the  Pyrenees. 
Sefior  Ojeda  seems  to  have  looked  somewhat  askance 
at  the  poet,  who  was  obviously  not  enthusiastic  in 
the  cause.  However,  if  he  did  not  enter  into  the  plot 
with  full  heart,  he  held  his  peace  concerning  it. 

The  night  Tennyson  left  Cambridge  there  was  a 
supper  in  his  rooms,  after  which  he  and  his  friends  all 
danced  quadrilles.  In  a  letter  from  Brookfield  to 
Hallam,  earher  in  this  book,  is  an  account  of  a  dance 
in  which  the  whole  set  heartily  joined,  for  dances 
after  supper  often  occurred.  Tennyson  danced  with 
zest  then,  and  to  the  end  of  his  Hfe  he  indulged  at 
intervals  in  that  recreation.  A  year  or  so  before  he  died 
Mrs.  Brookfield  was  visiting  him  at  Freshwater,  when 
he  suddenly  said  to  her,  "Jane,  let  us  dance."  Although 
she  suggested  that  they  were  no  longer  young  enough 
for  such  a  pastime.  Lord  Tennyson  pooh-poohed  the 
idea  and  assured  her  it  was  his  favourite  form  of 
exercise.  He  then  proceeded  with  deliberation  and 
stateliness,  to  pirouette  by  himself  all  down  the  room. 


ALFRED   TENNYSON  319 

When  he  went  "  down  "  earher  than  usual,  because 
of  his  father's  health,  he  was  not  forgotten  at  Cam- 
bridge. He  was  ever  to  the  fore  in  the  minds  of  his 
faithful  friends :  they  wrote  to  him  constantly,  and 
at  their  banquets  they  never  omitted  to  toast  him. 
Kemble,  writing  to  Milnes,  also  "  down,"  says,  "  If 
you  had  heard  the  cheer  that  followed  the  health 
of  Alfred  Tennyson,  the  poet  of  the  '  Apostles,'  at 
our  dinner  ...  if  you  had !  "  While  a  "  Daily 
Divan "  used  to  sit  throughout  the  term  for  the 
special  practice  of  the  Tennyson  culte.  "  The  Palace 
of  Art "  was  read  to  every  fresh  comrade.  "  The 
Locus-eaters "  was  discussed  with  all  the  earnest- 
ness of  a  new  religion.  And  one  or  other  of  the 
faithful  band  of  old  friends  (generally  Brookfield) 
would  write  flattering  accounts  to  the  poet  of  the  way 
in  which  his  works  were  appreciated.  But  Tennyson, 
though  a  splendid  letter  writer,  was  an  indifferent 
correspondent.  Speaking  of  an  "  Apostohc  "  banquet 
about  to  take  place  ''  amongst  Mankind,"  Stephen 
Springrice  reprimands  him  thus  :  "If  your  health  is 
proposed,  I  shall  oppose  it  on  the  ground  of  your 
being  an  unworthy  member  of  the  Society,"  and  this 
because  Tennyson  was  not  writing  frequently  enough  to 
please  them.  Although  somewhat  spoilt  at  Cambridge, 
Tennyson  somehow  got  it  into  his  head  that  he  had  not 
hked  the  place,  and  he  expressed  his  sentiments  in  a 
sonnet.  Venables,  who  in  after  life  urged  him  to  take 
up  his  residence  in  that  University  city,  found,  to  his 
surprise,  that  he  still  nursed  some  grudge  against  it. 


320        THE    CAMBRIDGE '^  APOSTLES  " 

The  death  of  Hallam  was  a  terrible  blow  to  the  poet, 
whose  spirit  was  quite  broken  by  the  tragic  event. 
His  friends  feared  to  tell  him  of  the  catastrophe.  The 
duty  devolved— luckily,  one  may  say— upon  Henry 
Elton,  uncle  to  the  deceased  and  a  stranger  to  Tenny- 
son. Garden  told  Trench,  ''  When  in  London  I  saw  a 
letter  from  poor  Alfred  Tennyson.  Both  himself  and 
his  family  seem  plunged  in  the  deepest  affliction,  which 
I  trust  is  to  end  in  their  discovering  what  true  joy  is, 
and  where  it  is  to  be  found."  While  Monteith  said  to 
Tennyson,  ''One  feehng  that  remains  with  me  is  a 
longing  to  preserve  all  those  friends  whom  I  know 
Hallam  loved  and  whom  I  learnt  to  love  through  him. 
He  was  so  much  a  centre  round  which  we  moved  that 
now  there  seems  a  possibility  of  many  connexions 
being  all  but  dissolved.  Since  Hallam's  death  I 
almost  feel  hke  an  old  man  looking  back  on  many 
friendships  as  something  bygone." 

It  was  the  Cambridge  group  of  men  who  urged 
Tennyson  to  persuade  Mr.  Hallam  to  publish  Arthur's 
Remains,  and  Trench  a  month  or  two  later  wrote, 
"  Tennyson  has,  I  hear,  so  far  recovered  from  the 
catastrophe  in  which  his  sister  was  involved,  as  to  have 
written  some  poems,  they  say  fine  ones."  ' 

It  is  interesting  to  watch  the  growth  of  Tennyson's 
magnificent  and  immortal  monument  to  Arthur 
Hallam's  memory;  how,  as  in  turn  each  phase  of 
sorrow  at  his  friend's  loss  overwhelmed  the  poet,  he 
found  relief  in  weaving  its  expression  into  noble  verse. 
Some  stanzas  he  would  carry  about  him  and  show  to 


ALFRED    TENNYSON  321 

no  one,  others  he  would  send  to  one  or  other  of  the 
"  wise  and  good  " — generally  to  Spedding,  his  favourite 
adviser,  seeking  for  help  or  encouragement — and  so 
year  by  year  the  poem  advanced.  One  day  in  the 
National  Gallery  he  produced  several  pages  of  it  and 
read  them  to  Brookfield,  whom  he  had  met  in  the 
street,  and  with  whom,  sure  of  a  sympathetic  "  critic," 
he  had  entered  the  building.  Not  only  is  the  splendid 
Elegiac  a  thing  of  everlasting  beauty,  but  it  was  con- 
ceived and  produced  in  an  atmosphere  all-beautiful. 
The  incentive  of  it  was  beautiful,  the  mournful  per- 
severance of  its  making  was  beautiful,  and  the  beauty 
of  its  achievement  gives  us  an  extra  glow  of  pride  in 
the  English  language. 

When  Milnes,  in  company  with  Lord  Northampton, 
got  up  the  "  Tribute  "  in  1836,  a  year  which  found 
Alfred  again  in  sombre  mood,  thinking  but  not  writing 
— and  therefore  not  publishing — he,  as  the  cause  was 
a  charity  to  which  most  of  his  friends  had  decided  to 
contribute,  asked  the  poet  also  to  help.  To  this  in- 
vitation Tennyson  replied,  **  That  you  had  promised 
the  Marquis  I  would  write  for  him  something  exceed- 
ing the  average  length  of  annual  compositions — that 
you  promised  him  I  would  write  at  all — I  took  this  for 
one  of  those  elegant  fictions  with  which  you  amuse 
your  aunts  of  evenings,  before  you  get  into  the  small 
hours  when  dreams  are  true;"  then  he  goes  on  to  tell 
him  that  three  years  before  he;  had  been  brought  to 
swear  "  through  the  incivihty  of  editors  "  never  again 
to  have  anything  to  do  with  their  "  vapid  books,"  "  I 


322        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

broke  it  in  the  sweet  face  of  Heaven  when  I  wrote  for 
Lady  Whats-her-name  Wortley.  But  then  her  sister 
wrote  to  Brookfield,  who  said  she  was  beautiful,  so  I 
could  not  help  it.  But  whether  the  Marquis  be  beauti- 
ful or  not,  I  don't  mind  ;  if  he  be,  let  him  give  God 
thanks  and  make  no  boast."  And  he  said  furthermore, 
"  How  shall  such  a  modest  man  as  I  see  my  small 
name  in  collation  with  the  great  ones  of  Southey, 
Wordsworth,  Richard  Monckton  Milnes,  etc.,  and  not 
feel  myself  a  barn-door  fowl  among  peacocks." 

Milnes,  strange  to  say,  was  angered  by  this  refusal, 
and  wrote  somewhat  violently  to  Tennyson,  who,  after 
some  bombast  at  the  beginning  of  a  letter,  said  : 
'  Had  I  been  writing  to  a  nervous,  morbidly  irritable 
man,  down  in  the  world,  stark  spoiled  with  the  staggers 
of  a  mismanaged  imagination,  and  quite  opprest  by 
fortune  and  by  the  reviews,  it  is  possible  I  might  have 
halted  to  find  expressions  more  suitable  to  his  case  ; 
but  that  you,  who  seem  at  least  to  take  the  world  as 
it  comes,  to  doff  it  and  let  it  pass,  that  you,  a  man 
every  way  prosperous  and  talented,  should  have  taken 
pet  at  my  unhappy  badinage,  made  me — lay  down  my 
pipe  and  stare  at  the  fire  for  ten  minutes."  And  he  goes 
on  to  add  some  admirable  words  which  formulate  what 
many  have  wished  to  say  when  the  spirit  of  their  letters 
has  been  misunderstood  :  "  .  .  .  Had  I  spoken  the 
same  words  laughing  to  you  in  my  chair,  and  with  my 
own  emphasis,  you  would  have  seen  what  they  really 
meant,  but  coming  to  read  them  peradventure  in  a  fit 
of  indigestion,  or  with   a   slight   matutinal   headache 


ALFRED    TENNYSON  323 

after  your  "  Apostolic  "  symposium,  you  subject  them 
to  such  misinterpretation  as,  if  I  had  not  sworn  to  be 
a  true  friend  to  you  till  my  latest  death  rackle,  would 
have  gone  far  to  make  me  indignant  !  " 

However,  this  breeze  ended  by  Tennyson  generously 
contributing  a  poem,  his  brothers  also  both  sending 
sonnets. 

Although  Tennyson  never  felt  the  pinch  of  poverty 
he  was  not  in  early  days  an  especial  favourite  of 
fortune  ;  but  he  was  rich  in  his  friendships  ;  there  was 
the  faithful  Cambridge  band  ever  ready  to  brighten 
his  outlook  if  things  looked  dark.  To  whichever  of  his 
intimates  he  chose  to  turn,  he  was  sure  of  a  bon  accueil  ; 
and  whenever  he  passed  through  London,  his  old 
cronies — Lushington,  Spedding,  Venables  and  the 
rest — fought  as  to  which  should  entertain  him,  though 
Milnes  observed,  "  I  do  not  give  him  a  bed,  he  can  get 
a  better  one  at  Spedding's."  A  relationship  was 
always  kept  up  with  the  Hallams,  and  it  was  the  his- 
torian who  got  for  him  the  Civil  Pension  of  £200  a  year. 
It  was  Milnes  who,  with  others,  worked  the  Laureate- 
ship  for  him.  When  that  compliment  was  offered  him, 
he  took  a  day  to  consider  it  and  did  not  make  up  his 
mind  till  he  had  consulted  his  friends.  "  In  the  end," 
he  says, "  I  accepted  the  honour  because  during  dinner 
Venables  told  me  that  if  I  became  Poet  Laureate  I  should 
always,  when  I  dined  out,  be  offered  the  liver  wing 
of  the  chicken." 

Perhaps  no  one  was  so  thoroughly  elated  at  the 
crowning  of  the  poet  as  his  devoted  mother.     She  was 


324        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

quite  beside  herself  with  pride  in  her  son,  and  dehght 
at  the  Royal  recognition  of  his  genius.  Occasionally, 
when  travelling  by  omnibus,  she  would  turn  to  her 
fellow -passengers  (who  would  listen  with  various 
emotions  of  sympathy,  surprise  or  apathy)  and 
smilingly  remark,  "  It  may  interest  you  to  know  that 
I  am  the  mother  of  the  Poet  Laureate.'' 

The  practical  side  of  Tennyson's  nature  is  an  object 
lesson  to  those  young  poetasters  who  cultivate  a  con- 
tempt for  worldly  wisdom  as  part  of  a  poet's  equip- 
ment. Tennyson  had  an  extraordinarily  well-balanced 
mind,  and  his  great  genius  had  two  valuable  allies  in 
his  business  acumen  and  in  the  conspicuous  peaceful- 
ness  and  conventionahty  of  his  family  hfe  ;  it  was 
upon  these  latter  that  the  late  Queen  Victoria,  level- 
headed and  clear-minded  herself,  especially  congra- 
tulated him.  He  was  personally  an  ideal  Poet 
Laureate  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  British  public, 
for  he  was  unconventional  in  small  things  which  pleased 
their  sense  of  fitness,  without  being  unconventional  in 
great,  which  would  have  shocked  their  sense  of  decorum. 
What  he  liked  best,  in  his  innermost  heart,  was  to  be 
unconventional  in  well-ordered  conventional  surround- 
ings ;  and  this  was  probably  no  pose  but  what  his 
nature  demanded.  Occasionally  some  bold  spirit 
would  reprimand  him.  On  one  occasion,  when  he  was 
on  a  visit  in  Ireland,  with  Aubrey  de  Vere,  a  sullen 
mood  overtook  him,  and  he  sought  out  his  hostess  and 
began  to  inveigh  against  the  inanity  of  dancing  ;  but 
the  lady  cut  him  short,  saying,  "  How  would  the  world 


ALFRED    TENNYSON  325 

get  on  if  others  went  about  growling  at  its  amusements 
in  a  voice  as  deep  as  a  lion's  ?  I  request  that  you  will 
go  upstairs^  put  on  an  evening  coat,  and  ask  my 
daughter  Sophia  to  dance." 

His  sudden  attacks  of  ill-humour  seem  to  have  been 
quite  independent  of  his  control,  they  would  come 
over  him  as  abruptly  and  unaccountably  as  a  summer 
storm.  Once  at  a  Court  Ball,  when  the  poet  in  a  fit 
of  absentmindedness,  was  wandering  into  the  Royal 
circle,  and  Lord  Breadalbane  motioned  him  back,  he 
exclaimed  loud  enough  to  be  heard:  "Surely  Her 
Majesty  might  keep  her  flunkeys  in  better  order." 

Sunderland,  who  went  the  mission  to  Oxford  with 
Milnes  and  Hallam,  and  who  was  intellectually  the 
greatest  of  them  all — indeed  he  was  perhaps  the  greatest 
scholar  Cambridge  has  ever  seen — was  in  early  days 
handled  with  some  roughness  by  Tennyson  in  a  poem 
called  "A  Character."  When  told  that  he  was  the 
person  intended,  he  said,  "  Oh  really,  and  which 
Tennyson  did  you  say  wrote  it  ?  The  slovenly  one  ?  " 
Poor  Sunderland  unfortunately  never  fulfilled  the 
promise  he  showed.  His  brilliant  mind  failed  him 
soon  after  he  left  Cambridge  and  he  died  young. 

In  Brookfield's  manuscript  "  Omniana,"  under  the 
heading  :  "  Cooked  up  by  Alfred  Tennyson,  Peel  and 
Whyte,  at  Yarmouth,  Isle  of  Wight,  1846  (almost  all 
Tennyson),"  we  find  piously  treasured  the  following 
lines  : — 

Two  poets  and  a  mighty  dramatist 
Threaded  the  Needles  on  a  day  in  June  ; 


326        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

Upon  the  ocean  lay  a  lucid  mist, 
And  round  the  cliffs  the  sea-bird's  plaintive  tune 
Resounded,  as  they  row'd  beneath  the  sun. 
For  Nature  is  a  wondrous  harmonist : 
And  as  the  boat  the  gentle  waters  kiss't 
The  long  wake  sparkled  in  the  sleepy  noon. 
Bright  was  the  glare  on  that  o'erarching  chalk  ; 
And  soft  the  washing  of  the  summer  seas  ; 
And  deep  and  thoughtful  was  the  poet's  talk — 
The  mighty  dramatist — lounging  at  ease 
And  all  those  three  great  spirits  not  to  balk, 
Their  aspirations  clamoured  "  bread  and  cheese." 

And  against  the  third  Hne  from  the  end  :  "  The 
mighty  dramatist — lounging  at  ease,"  a  marginal  note, 
"  A.T.'s  favourite  line'' 

The  Mr.  Whyte  who  had  the  honour — with  Peel — 
of  assisting  the  poet  to  make  the  above  impromptu, 
in  writing  to  Brookfield,  invited  him  to  pay  him  a 
visit,  saying,  "  I  am  amazingly  glad  to  get  away  from 
France,  and  I  look  back  with  pride  to  the  fact  that  I 
speak  French  with  as  hideous  an  accent  as  ever  ! 
To-day  I  expect  Alfred  Tennyson,  or  rather  (as  he  has 
written  to  announce  his  arrival)  I  suspect  he  won't 
come." 

Side  by  side,  in  the  "  Omniana  "  book,  with  the 
above  quaint  composition  is  the  following  in  Brook- 
field's  writing  :  "  By  Alfred  Tennyson,  I  should  think 
thirt}^  years  ago.  (I  write  this  at  Somerby,  Grantham, 
Thursday,  October  15,  1868,  from  memory) : — 

O'er  the  dark  world  flies  the  wind 

And  clatters  in  the  sapless  trees, 
From  cloud  to  cloud  in  darkness  blind 

Swift  stars  scud  over  sounding  seas. 


ALFRED    TENNYSON  327 

I  look  ;    the  showery  skirts  unbind  : 

Mars  by  the  lonely  Pleiades 
Burns  overhead.     With  brows  dedined 

I  muse — I  wander  from  my  peace, 
Dividing  still  the  rapid  mind 

This  way  and  that  in  search  of  ease. 

Brookfield  comments  upon  this,  "  '  Bleak  '  in  the  first 
hne  seems  to  me  to  be  better,  as  '  darkness  '  comes  in 
third  hne."  This  instance  of  a  friend  of  Tennyson's 
throwing  his  mind  back  over  a  lapse  of  years  and  jot- 
ting down  from  memory  a  treasured  fragment  of  his 
poetry  is  not  put  forward  as  an  extraordinary  feat  ; 
it  is  only  typical  of  the  devotion  which  the  whole  set 
paid  to  their  idol. 

It  is  interesting  to  get  glimpses  of  the  workings 
of  the  poet's  mind ;  to  see  how  on  reflection  he 
would  sometimes  be  at  pains  to  make  at  the  last 
moment  some  apparently  trifling  alteration  in  his  lines. 
Thus,  in  his  sonnet  to  William  George  Ward,  Tennyson, 
in  the  first  copy  sent  to  that  gentleman's  relations, 
wrote,  "  Most  liberal  of  all  Ultramontanes,"  which 
he  elected,  in  the  published  version,  to  alter  to  "  Most 
generous''  It  is  questionable  whether  the  poet's 
second  thought  was  in  this  case  the  happier. 

Similarly,  in  the  sonnet  to  Brookfield,  he  wrote,  in 
the  original  MS.  : — 

Brooks,  for  they  call'd  you  so  that  loved  you  best. 
Old  Brooks,  who  knew  so  well  to  mouth  my  rhymes ; 

and  in  the  published  version  he  transposed  the  words 
"  loved  "  and  "  knew."     When  he  had  completed  that 


328        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

beautiful  tribute  to  his  old  comrade,  he  wrote  to  Mrs. 
Brookfield  and  her  son  Charles  to  make  an  appoint- 
ment for  them  to  hear  it.     He  arrived,  in  his  long  round 
cloak,  his  scroll  of  poetry  in  his  hand,  accompanied  by 
a  massive  elderly  lady— not  unknown  on  the  plat- 
form nor  on  the  back-drawing-room    stage— capari- 
soned in  a  tight-fitting  violet  velvet   dress  with  a  long 
tram.     He  had  not  met  the  widow  of  his  old  friend 
since  her  husband's  death,  and  both  he  and  she  felt 
somewhat  constrained  ;   so  after  a  conventional  greet- 
mg,  he  handed  the  script  to  his  stately  companion, 
saying,  "  Here,  you'd  better  read  this."     The  lady  in 
the  violet  velvet  train  took  the  scroll  in  both  hands, 
partially  unrolled  it,  advanced  to  the  centre  of  the 
room,  read  a  few  lines  to  herself  in  a  stage  whisper, 
with  much  facial  expression,  as  though  she  had  never 
seen  the  script  before,  then,  suddenly  falling  upon  both 
knees,  exclaimed  in  tragedy  tones,  "  Oh  !    this  is  too 
divine  to  be  read  in  any  other  attitude  !  "  and  forth- 
with proceeded  to  declaim  it  by  heart. 

Another  note  from  Brookfield's  "  Omniana  "  records 
that  when  a  letter  arrived  from  anybody  of  importance 
his  children  would  ask  him,  "  Papa,  is  this  an  auto- 
graph ?  "  meaning  does  it  deserve  keeping  as  such  ? 
One  day,  July  lo,  1866,  he  writes,  ''  Alfred  Tennyson 
went  mto  Charley's  nursery  last  night  and  kissed  him 
as  he  lay  asleep.  Being  told  of  this  this  morning,  the 
child  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  then,  now  I'm  an  autograph  !  " 
Tennyson  did  not  look  upon  himself  as  a  religious 
man  ;    he  said  people  would  not  understand  his  reli- 


ALFRED    TENNYSON  329 

gion  if  he  told  them  what  it  was.  His  son  says,  "  He 
held  the  doctrine  of  a  personal  immortality  and  was 
by  no  means  content  to  accept  our  present  existence 
as  a  mere  preparation  for  the  life  of  more  perfect 
beings."  He  once  asked  John  Sterling  whether  he 
would  be  content  with  such  an  arrangement,  and 
Sterling  had  replied  that  he  would.  "  I  would  not," 
added  Tennyson,  emphatically;  "I  should  consider 
that  a  liberty  had  been  taken  with  me  if  I  were  made 
simply  a  means  of  ushering  in  something  higher  than 
myself." 

His  Confessions  of  a  Sensitive  Mind  or  Supposed  Confes- 
sions of  a  Second-rate  Sensitive  Mind  not  in  Unity  with 
Itself,  to  give  it  its  full  original  title,  are  obviously 
reflections  of  the  nightmare  of  rebellious  doubt  through 
which  he  and  all  the  other  over-eager  souls  of  his  time 
had  to  struggle  in  their  early  Cambridge  days. 

"  Yet,"  said  I,  in  my  morn  of  youth, 
The  unsunned  freshness  of  my  strength, 
When  I  went  forth  in  quest  of  truth, 
"It  is  a  man's  privilege  to  doubt." 

*  *  * 

Shall  a  man  live  thus,  in  joy  and  hope 

As  a  young  lamb,  who  cannot  dream. 

Living,  but  that  he  shall  live  on  ? 

Shall  we  not  look  into  the  laws 

Of  life  and  death  ?     and  things  that  seem, 

And  things  that  be,  and  anal5^e 

Our  double  nature,  and  compare 

All  creeds  till  we  have  found  the  one, 

If  one  there  be  ? 

*  *  * 

O  weary  life  !     O  weary  death  ! 

O  spirit  and  heart  made  desolate  ! 
O  damned  vacillating  state  ! 


330        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

Later  in  the  poet's  work  there  are  happily  many 
evidences  of  peace  attained  at  last.  And  in  a  letter 
written  in  1874,  he  says,  "  For  I  beheve  that  the  dead 
Hve,  whatever  pseudo-savants  may  say." 

It  is  a  warm  and  glowing  picture,  the  end  of  Tenny- 
son's life.  The  splendid  old  bard,  his  Bible  at  his 
side,  with  his  beautiful  surroundings,  fading  into  the 
sunset ;  his  great  achievements  hke  banners  around  a 
cathedral,  his  noble  poetry  resounding  his  own  Re- 
quiem.    Did  he  not  sing,  when  his  first  child  died  : — 

Hallowed  be  Thy  name — Halleluiah  ! 

Infinite  Ideality  ! 

Immeasurable  Reality  ! 

Infinite  Personality  ! 

Hallowed  be  Thy  name — Halleluiah  ! 


CHAPTER  XV 

RICHARD   CHENEVIX   TRENCH 

We  meet  not  now,  as  once,  day  after  day, 

In  pleasant  intercourse  to  change  our  thoughts  : 

But  I  can  well  remember  all  that  time, 

And  all  the  thoughts  that  fiUed  it — for  just  then 

We  were  as  merchants  seeking  goodly  pearls. 

(Richard  C.  Trench.) 

I  am  at  rest — my  centre  I  have  found 

The  circle's  edge  I  had  been  wandering  round. 

{Ihid.) 

From  that  remarkable  group  of  earnest  young  scholars, 
impetuous  young  philosophers,  and  dreamy  young 
poets,  Trench  stands  forth  distinguished  by  the 
maturity  of  his  moral  qualities.  With  as  great  in- 
tellectual gifts  as  they,  he  seems  to  have  had — if  one 
may  use  the  expression — a  more  grown-up  soxil.  To 
all  the  graceful  endowments  of  oratory,  poetry  and 
the  like,  which  he  shared  with  his  fellows,  he  possessed 
in  addition  the  gift  of  sound  good  sense. 

He  passed  swiftly  and  practically  unscathed  through 
the  Inferno  of  youthful  religious  doubt,  and  he  was 
accordingly  able  to  give  his  manly  guidance  to  those 
less  fortunate,  who  were  willing  to  accept  it. 


332        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

Perhaps  the  friend  who  profited  most  by  Trench's 
help  was  Arthur  Hallam  ;    the  two  had  many  a  dis- 
cussion, in  the  course  of  one  of  which  the  younger  man 
observed:     ''Perhaps    the    usual    prejudice    against 
prayers  for  special  earthly  gifts  has  gone  a  great  way  to 
remove  faith  out  of  the  Church  by  destroying  the  sense 
of  nearness  and  filial  relation  to  God."     Sterhng  and 
Maurice,  who  were  Trench's  close  companions,  occa- 
sionally allowed  him  to  coax  them  down  from  the 
Babel    heights    of    "Apostolic"    dispute;    but    they 
would  soon  clamber  up  again  to  the  level  of  confusion. 
Probably  they  would  both  have  achieved  in  their  lives 
greater  things  with  fewer  throes  had  they  submitted 
to  be  guided  by  Trench.     Those  in  Cambridge  and 
outside  who  did  not  appreciate  the  "  Apostles  "  and 
who  resented  their  assumption  of  superiority  in  under- 
taking to  enlighten  every  one  upon  things  intellectual 
and  spiritual,  could  not  see  as  we  can,  at  this  distance 
of  time,  that  the  world  at  large  was  in  a  state  of  moral 
ferment,  that  every  man  was  either  yearning  to  hear 
or  bursting  to  tell ;    that  the  most  enhghtened,  such 
as  our  young  friends,  were  eager  to  do  both ;   that  is 
to   say,    to    acquire   quickly— with   their   facihty   for 
learning ;   and  to  impart  quickly— with  their  genius  for 
declaiming.     The  difficulty  with  them  was  to  find  the 
precise  source  from  which  to  draw  the  prophecies  it 
should  be  their  mission  to  pour  forth.     Dissatisfied  as 
they  were,  at  that  period,  with  their  Church,  these  young 
theorists  with  their  picturesque  minds  endeavoured  to 
blend  philosophy  and  poetry  into  some  kind  of  a  moral 


7 


Richard  Chenevix  Trench 


RICHARD    CHENEVIX  TRENCH  333 

code  which  should  enhghten  those  in  darkness  and 
solve  the  problems  of  life  and  death. 

But  while  his  fellow  ''Apostles"  carried  on  their 
studies  and  discussions  and  efforts  in  this  golden  direc- 
tion, with  all  the  buoyant  sanguineness  of  youth,  Trench 
looked  on  with  profound  melancholy.  With  his 
superior  wisdom  and  calmer  judgment,  he  saw  the 
futility  of  his  young  friends'  schemes  and  realized  the 
morbid  effect  which  the  investigations  upon  which 
they  had  so  recklessly  embarked  might  have  upon 
their  characters.  Whenever  he  was  drawn  into  their 
debates  upon  philosophical  subjects,  they  plunged 
him  still  deeper  into  depression  ;  indeed  that  passing 
wave  of  thought  gave  him  a  prejudice  against  Cam- 
bridge which  lasted  for  many  years.  He  protested 
frankly  that  he  "  disliked  the  whole  band  of  Platonico- 
Wordsworthian-Coleridgian- anti-Utilitarians,' '  mean- 
ing the  whole  Apostolic  circle  while  they  were  under 
the  influence  of  the  prevailing  atmosphere.  Sterling 
found  him  one  day  expressing  his  sentiments  of  ap- 
prehension in  flowing  verse,  and  exclaimed,  "  You 
would  probably  have  been  a  poet  in  any  circum- 
stances." 

Trench's  first  experiment  in  literature  was,  curiously 
enough,  a  tragedy  which  was  meant  for  the  stage. 
It  was  entitled  "  Bernardo  del  Carpio,"  and  was 
esteemed  a  fine  piece  of  work.  It  was  handed  round 
among  his  Cambridge  friends  and  freely  commented 
upon,  after  the  fashion  of  those  men  and  times  ;  and 
it  was  ultimately  submitted  to  Macready,  who  read 


334        THE    CAMBRIDGE    "APOSTLES" 

it  twice  (so  he  says)  and  invited  the  dramatic  aspirant 
to  call  upon  him,  "as  I  cannot  convey  to  you  by  letter, 
with  any  satisfaction  or  completeness,  my  opinion  with 
regard  to  the  elements  necessary  to  the  success  of  your 
Tragedy."  This  was  the  play  which  Trench  destroyed 
when  he  went  to  Dublin  as  Archbishop  of  that  See. 

Sterling  wrote  to  him  on  the  subject  of  this  drama  :— 

"  Kemble,  not  long  ago,  inflicted  upon  me  a  morning 
visit  of  some  three  hours,  in  the  course  of  which  he 
spoke  highly  of  the  talent  it  shows  (the  worse  symptoms 
I  ve  heard  of  it  as  yet),  but  says  it  requires  alteration 
lor  the  stage.  I  trust  you  will  let  me  judge  for  myself. 
If  you  do  me  the  favour,  I  tell  you  beforehand  I  shall 
be  as  candid  as  Mrs.  Candour  herself,  and  tell  you  all 
the  faults  I  can  discover.  You  remember  Roche- 
foucauld says  that  friendship  is  shcvvn  by  telling  your 
friend  of  his  errors,  not  his  merits,  and  for  once  the 
sour-hearted  cynic  is  right." 

He  says  furthermore  : — 

"I  pity  the  poor  old  hero,  who  having  been  dragged 
from  the  tomb  by  your  witching,  is  condemned  to  lie 
for  so  many  weeks  in  that  limbo  of  vanity,  filled  with 
all  manner  of  ghosts  and  abortions,  Kemble's  port- 
folio." 

On  some  other  occasion,  in  asking  some  favour  of 
Trench,  he  said  :  "If  you  will  do  this,  you  will  place 
yourself  in  my  estimation  between  Jeremy  Bentham 
and  Jacob  Behmen." 

After  taking  his  degree.  Trench  travelled  on  the 
Continent  and  went  to  Spain,  intending  to  wander 


RICHARD    CHENEVIX  TRENCH         335 

peacefully  throughout  that  romantic  country  and  to 
cultivate  the  Spanish  language,  in  the  study  of  which 
he  had  already  made  considerable  progress  under  the 
tuition  of  one  of  Sterling's  pohtical  proteges.  Here 
he  made  up  his  mind  to  take  orders,  but  determined 
to  come  back  and  "  give  himself  a  calm  studious  year  " 
before  actually  entering  the  Church. 

But  in  the  midst  of  his  hoHday,  Torrijos,  whom  he 
had  met  in  London,  and  liked  and  sympathized  with, 
became  freshly  compromised  (Trench  discovered  this 
and  wrote  to  Sterling,  "  Unless  he  returns  armed,  he 
had  better  keep  out  of  the  way  of  the  royalists"); 
and  Sterhng  in  England  was  taking  up  the  cudgels  on 
behalf  of  the  revolutionaries  ;  Tennyson,  Hallam, 
Kemble,  and  many  others  of  the  "  Apostolic  "  band, 
were  also  agitating.  When  he  found  his  friends  de- 
voting themselves  heart  and  soul  to  the  cause  of  liberty 
and  actually  proposing  to  follow  the  call  to  arms  and 
fight  in  its  support.  Trench,  the  least  truculent  of 
men,  with  characteristic  loyalty,  determined  to  throw 
in  his  lot  with  theirs  and  joined  the  conspiracy.  The 
moral  value  of  an  act  depends  upon  its  intention.  We 
may  applaud  the  spirit  of  all  the  young  men  who  took 
part  in  that  struggle  for  freedom  ;  we  are  bound  to 
admire  the  enthusiasm  and  the  self-sacrifice  and  the 
courage  of  every  one  of  them.  But  some  had  illusions 
to  fortify  them,  others  a  love  for  romantic  adventure, 
others  a  combative  nature  ;  Trench  had  none  of  these. 
For  this  enlightened  young  scholar,  with  no  revolu- 
tionary kink  in  his  brain,  with  no  taste  for  conflict  nor 


336         THE   CAMBRIDGE   ''APOSTLES" 

for  strange  experience,  to  set  aside  his  better  judgment 
and  sally  forth,  his  life  in  his  hand,  through  sheer 
staunchness  to  his  friends,  was  an  act  of  heroism  which 
it  were  hard  to  match. 

Once  pledged  to  the  wild  scheme.  Trench  threw  him- 
self into  it  with  the  thoroughness  and  dash  of  a  born 
buccaneer.  While  he  was  arranging  with  Kemble  the 
details  of  their  route  to  Spain,  to  the  spot  which  was 
to  be  the  point  of  attack,  he  wrote  to  that  gentle- 
man : — 

"  I  cannot  rest  for  hearing  the  hum  of  mighty 
workings,  and  am  very  anxious  if  there  is  any  news 
that  you  should  give  it  to  me,  and  how  soon  it  is 
probable  that  we  shall  be  wanted.  I  am  in  high 
spirits  at  the  prospect  of  our  speedy  hanging,  as  any- 
thing is  better  than  to  remain  and  rot  in  this  country." 

Yet  during  the  long  dreary  vigil  at  Gibraltar,  he 
wrote  a  sonnet,  England,  we  love  thee  better  than  we 
knew.'' 

Trench,  once  in  Spain,  did  all  the  little  it  was  possible 
to  do,  and  keenly  alive  to  Sterling's  anxieties  on  behalf 
of  his  friends  whom  he  felt  were  exposed  to  danger 
mainly  at  his  instigation,  wrote  to  Donne  :  "  Should 
anything  disastrous  happen— I  mean,  should  we  all  be 
cut  off — for  God's  sake  go  to  London  immediately  and 
be  with  Sterling.  I  have  shuddering  apprehensions 
of  how  he  may  receive  the  news.  He  will  accuse  him- 
self as  the  cause  of  all."  Throughout  he  seems  to 
have  been  full  of  thought  and  tender  solicitude  for 
every   one    but    himself.     Sterling    wrote,     "  Trench 


RICHARD    CHENEVIX   TRENCH         337 

has  shown  himself  what  he  ahvays  was,  one  whose 
feehngs  are  pure  as  crystal  and  warm  as  the  sun." 
Of  his  attitude  over  the  affair  of  the  attempted 
raid,  Thirlwall  said  in  a  letter  of  introduction  to 
Bunsen  in  Rome,  whither  Trench  a  year  or  so  later 
went  on  account  of  his  health  : — 

"  In  a  circle  which  comprised  the  strongest  minds 
and  noblest  spirits  of  our  youth  (this  was  the 
'  Apostle's  '  Society)  he  was  distinguished  for  his  fine 
literary  taste,  his  poetical  talent  and  the  generous 
ardour  of  his  character.  Soon  after  leaving  the 
University  he  accompanied  the  unfortunate  Torrijos 
in  his  expedition  to  Spain  and  stayed  with  him  at 
Gibraltar  till  every  chance  of  success  had  vanished. 
His  motive  for  embarking  on  the  adventure  was  much 
more  one  of  private  friendship  for  Torrijos,  than  any 
political  interest  in  the  cause." 

But  the  failure  of  the  "  cause  "  was  so  complete  and 
terrible  that  Trench,  like  Sterhng,  could  never  bear  to 
hear  it  mentioned,  and  very  rarely  indeed  would  he 
himself  allude  to  it.  The  tragic  death  of  Boyd  was  as 
shocking  to  him  as  to  Sterling ;  but  while  it  had  the 
result  of  thoroughly  recollecting  and  steadying  Trench's 
thoughts,  it  seems  to  have  had  the  effect  upon  Sterling 
of  entirely  unsettling  his  mind.  When  Trench  did 
once  make  allusion  to  the  unfortunate  expedition  it 
was  only  to  say  sadly,  "  x\h  !  the  whole  business  may 
have  been  misguided  and  inglorious,  but  believe  me, 
it  was  not  unheroic." 

When  he  got  back  to  Cambridge  in  1831,  in  order  to 


338        THE  CAMBRIDGE   "APOSTLES" 

attend  his  Divinity  Lectures,  with  a  heart  settled  by 
sorrow  and  an  outlook  widened  by  experience,  he  had 
evidently  become  reconciled  to  his  alma  mater,  for  he 
wrote  :  "  I  am  far  more  attached  to  Cambridge  than 
I  had  thought.  There  are  very  few  here,  if  any,  whom 
you  know — Blakesley  and  Hallam,  both  worthy  to  be 
known,  and  others  who  will  make  it  very  difficult  for 
me  to  keep  my  determination  of  withdrawing  myself 
altogether  from  the  small  and  irritating  intellectual 
excitements  of  the  place." 

Tennyson  writes  in  the  course  of  a  letter  to  Brook- 
field  about  this  time  the  following  enthusiastic  testi- 
mony of  their  common  friend  : — 

"You  and  Trench,  I  am  told,  grew  very  intimate 
with  one  another  before  he  left  Cambridge  ;  it  is  im- 
possible to  look  upon  Trench  and  not  to  love  him, 
though  he  be,  as  Fred  says,  always  strung  up  to  the 
highest  pitch,  and  the  earnestness  which  burns  with- 
in him  so  flashes  through  all  his  words  and  actions 
that  when  one  is  not  in  a  mood  of  sympathetic  eleva- 
tion, it  is  difficult  to  present  a  s^nse  of  one's  own  in- 
feriority and  lack  of  all  high  and  holy  feeling.  Trench 
is  a  bold  and  true-hearted  Idoloclast,  yet  have  I  no 
faith  in  any  one  of  his  opinions.  Hallam  got  a  letter 
from  Stradbally  the  other  day.  T.  writes  that  they 
keep  armed  watch  and  ward  all  night,  a  state  of  things 
I  should  think  not  very  disagreeable  to  him  who  would 
have  smitten  off  both  ears  (whose  jest  was  that  ?  the 
man  who  made  it  deserves  to  be  cultivated)." 

In  1833  Trench  was  ordained  deacon  and  appointed 
curate   to   the   Reverend   J.   H.    Rose,   at   Hadleigh. 


RICHARD    CHENEVIX    TRENCH  339 

Thither  came  Newman,  Hurrell  Froude  and  Arthur 
Perceval  for  their  '*  Great  Conference "  (at  which 
Trench  had  the  privilege  of  assisting),  when  the  im- 
portant question  was  discussed  as  to  what  form  the 
Tracts  for  the  Times  should  take.  Trench  tells  us  it 
was  Hurrell  Froude  who  made  the  greatest  impression 
upon  him  on  that  occasion. 

He  still  kept  in  with  the  "  Apostles."  Garden 
writes  to  Milnes  :  "  My  ten  days  with  Trench  were 
precious.  He  is  the  best  man  and  the  best  clerg3^man 
I  ever  knew  and  his  preaching  superb,  yet  plain  enough 
for  his  auditors."  Trench  writes  to  Donne  asking  : 
"  Do  you  know  aught  of  private  news  concerning  the 
*  Apostles '  of  late  ?  Blakesley  has  taken  orders, 
Spedding  has  gained  some  University  essays — of  Ster- 
ling I  heard  a  week  ago."  He  was  in  Rome  with 
several  of  the  "  Society  "  the  winter  of  1834-5,  when 
there  was  "  quite  a  Cambridge  coterie,"  as  Milnes 
called  it.  Trench's  ingenuousness  is  charming  when 
he  tells  how  he  wished  to  help  himself  from  a  sermon 
preached  by  a  Jesuit  at  the  Gesu,  "  but  as  I  saw 
some  English  listening  too,  must  do  it  with  moder- 
ation," and  this  confession  indicates  that  the  habit 
of  "  helping  oneself "  is  not  purely  of  to-day,  and, 
as  Brookfield  shows,  it  was  a  method  which  ran 
through  all  of  them. 

On  his  return  from  Italy  he  began  to  publish  his 
poems.  "  Justin  Martyr  "  came  out  in  1835.  "  Have 
you  seen  Trench's  new  volume  ?  Here  we  all  think 
the  clergyman  has  swallowed  up  the  poet,  and  also 


340  THE  CAMBRIDGE   '' APOSTLES" 

that  it  would  have  been  well  if  the  castastrophe  had 
taken  place  before  the  latter  had  written  his  last 
book,"  said  Blakesley  to  Milnes.  Milnes  was  much 
excited  about  this  work,  and  especially  so  because 
*'  Wiseman  reviewed  it,"  while  to  Milnes  Trench  said 
deprecatingly  about  these  poems,  "  I  am  afraid  it  is 
the  religious  world  that  have  bought  them,  not  the 
poetical."  But  this  was  an  excess  of  modesty,  for  as 
a  matter  of  fact  Trench's  writing  glowed  with  the 
poetry  which  filled  his  soul,  and  which  shone  even  from 
his  countenance.  W.  H.  Donne  said  he  had  a  print  of 
Keats,  "  which  I  love  to  look  on  for  its  beauty  and 
fire ;  it  reminds  me  of  Trench."  It  was  certainly 
the  poetic  in  religion,  as  in  all  else,  which  appealed  to 
him  most  strongly.  It  is  a  pity  he  had  not  the  time 
to  devote  himself  more  to  the  writing  of  verse  ;  but 
he  was  devoted  to  duty  and  a  hard  and  conscientious 
worker ;  few  have  left  behind  them  more  actual 
evidences  than  he  of  deep  study  and  scholarly  appli- 
cation. 

When  Brookfield  took  a  curacy  at  Southampton  in 
1836,  he  found  himself  a  close  neighbour  to  Trench  at 
Botley  Hill.  There  they  revived  their  college  friend- 
ship and  a  pleasant  intimacy  ensued,  and  there  Brook- 
field  wrote  down,  day  by  day  as  they  were  composed, 
the  poems  that  his  friend  gave  off.  In  a  little  book 
at  hand,  in  the  neatest  writing,  all  dated,  are  all  the 
sonnets  and  couplets  and  longer  pieces  which  Trench 
wrote  between  the  year  1836  and  1840,  which  were 
prolific  years  with  him.     They  used  to  take  each  other's 


RICHARD    CHENEVIX    TRENCH         341 

services,  and  ramble  and  drive  together,  their  con- 
versations being  always  on  poetry  or  theology. 
Brookfield  took  him,  as  he  took  Tennyson  and  others 
of  them,  to  the  Eltons,  when  he  wrote  in  Mary  Elton's 
album  the  lovely  sonnet  which  begins  :— 

Not  thou  from  us,  O  Lord,  but  we 
Withdraw  ourselves  from  Thee. 

"  I  Hke  Mr.  Trench  extremely,"  said  that  young 
lady,  "  such  an  earnest  yet  such  a  mild  man." 

In  1838  when  the  "  Sterling  "  was  inaugurated,  he 
wrote  : — 

**  My  dear  Brookfield, — 

"  I  was  quite  ashamed  of  the  letter  with  which  I 
troubled  you  from  London  ;  indeed,  if  it  had  not 
been  for  the  temptation  of  a  frank  I  do  not  think  I 
should  have  written  it.  As  it  is,  let  me  offer  you  my 
best  thanks  for  your  zealous  kindness  in  the  matter  and 
for  all  the  pleasure  which  four  days'  freedom  obtained 
for  me  by  you  brought  me.  Nothing  had  been  done 
concerning  your  election  to  the  '  Sterling  Club,'  but 
the  matter  was  put  in  train  by  me,  and  your  balloting 
will  come  on  next  time.  I  am  very  glad  there  was  no 
further  delay,  as  the  numbers  are  limited  to  fifty,  and 
we  are  within  three  or  four  of  that  already.  We  had 
a  very  pleasant  gathering,  much  in  the  old  Cambridge 
spirit,  and  all  were  at  ease  with  one  another.  I  wish 
the  mystery  had  found  greater  favour  in  your  eyes, 
as  one  is  never  willing  to  believe  that  one  had  bestowed 
labour  in  vain  ;  however,  I  dare  say  your  judgment  is 
right. 

"  Affectionately"  yours, 

"  Richard  C.  Trench." 


342  THE   CAMBRIDGE   ''APOSTLES" 

Brookfield— with  his  usual  critical  frankness  charac- 
teristic of  the  set — had  given  an  adverse  criticism  on 
a  new  effort  of  Trench's.  He  was  not  elected  this  time 
to  the  "  Sterling/'  but  presently,  as  a  great  surprise 
and  pleasure  to  himself,  he  found  himself  a  member. 

When  Trench's  little  son  was  dying,  he  wrote  : — 

"  BoTLEY  Hill,  "  January,  1841. 
**  My  dear  Brookfield, — 

"  Thank  you  for  your  kind  note — it  has  reached  us 
in  a  time  of  heavy  affliction.  Our  dear  eldest  boy  is 
about  to  be  taken  from  us  (your  little  friend  Francis) — 
I  may  say  is  already  taken,  and  lies  almost  without 
sense  and  motion,  waiting  till  his  spirit  takes  flight. 
The  sweet  child  has  been  thus  suddenly  brought  low 
by  inflammation  on  the  brain,  issuing  in  water  on  the 
head.  On  Christmas  Day  we  thought  him  ill,  and  on 
New  Year's  Day  the  conviction  was  brought  home  upon 
us  that  he  would  die  ;  and  all  efforts  have  proved  in- 
effectual to  arrest  the  progress  of  the  disease. 

''  Oh,  may  this  affliction,  grievous  as  it  now  is,  bear 
hereafter  peaceable  fruits  of  righteousness.  I  trust  it 
will  lead  us  to  great  searchings  of  heart,  that  we  may 
see  what  and  in  how  many  ways  we  have  been  provoking 
the  Lord,  till  he  has  arrested  us  with  a  sudden  hand 
in  our  course  of  departure  from  Him.  Mrs.  Trench 
has  gone  wonderfully  through  scenes  of  the  most 
agonizing  description,  for  you  know  perhaps  the  anguish 
which  the  disorder  causes  ;  but  strength  has  been  given 
her  equal  to  the  need,  and  we  have  to  praise  for  the 
patience  and  meekness  given  to  the  poor  sufferer. 

"  Adieu,  my  dear  friend.  When  I  am  in  town  I  will 
look  you  out. 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"  R.  C.  Trench." 


RICHARD    CHENEVIX   TRENCH        343 

To  which  Brookfield  repHed  : — 

'*  My  dear  Trench, — 

**  Be  sure  that  I  very  sincerely  share  in  your  grief 
because  of  that  dear  boy  whom  I  loved  very  much. 
The  consolations  which  I  might  suggest  will  have 
suggested  themselves  I  am  sure  already  to  your  heart. 
Still  it  must  be  a  high  exertion  of  the  new  and  better 
nature  for  a  parent  not  only  to  acquiesce  in  the  will  of 
God,  but  to  render  hearty  thanks  that  it  hath  pleased 
Him  to  deliver  his  child  out  of  the  miseries  of  this 
sinful  world.  Such  an  exertion,  however,  must  be 
prayed  for  and  endeavoured.  I  hope  it  is  not  trifling 
with  Holy  Writ  to  apply  to  your  departed  child  a  sen- 
tence which  was  first  spoken  of  two  persons  with  a 
somewhat  different  meaning  of  his  two  brothers. 
*  One  is  this  day  with  our  Father  and  one  is  not,'  and 
so  to  let  the  blessedness  of  the  joint  clause  take  away 
the  sting  of  the  second. 

"  It  must  be  a  subject  of  great  thankfulness  to  you 
that  Mrs.  Trench  has  found  the  efficiency  of  those  funds 
of  support  and  consolation  which  she  had  stored  up 
for  so  dark  a  day  as  that  must  be  which  for  the  first 
time  finds  a  mother  '  weeping  for  her  children.' 

''  I  heartily  pray  God  to  comfort  you  both  abun- 
dantly and  to  enable  you  so  to  sow  in  tears  that  you 
may  reap  in  joy. 

"  God  bless  you,  my  dear  Trench, 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"  W.  H.  Brookfield." 

In  1844  Lord  Ashburton  offered  Trench  Itchenstoke, 
a  living  not  far  from  the  Grange.  Trench  used  to  tell 
quaintly  how  Lady  Ashburton  encouraged  him  to  take 
it  by  saying,   "  There  are  no  poor  to  harass  one's 


344         THE   CAMBRIDGE   "APOSTLES" 

feelings."  While  he  was  there  parties  from  the  Grange 
would  often  come  over  and  burst  in  upon  him.  Thac- 
keray once  says,  "  To-day  we  have  had  a  fine  walk- 
to  Trench's  parsonage,  a  pretty  place  three  miles  off, 
through  woods  a  hundred  thousand  colours.  The 
poet  was  absent,  but  his  good-natured  wife  came  to  see 
us— by  us  I  mean  me.  Lady  Ashburton,  and  Miss 
Farrer— who  walked  as  aide  de  camp  by  my  lady's 
pony." 

Trench  was  himself  most  interested  in  the  poor,  and 
worked  so  hard  in  and  out  of  the  Irish  cabins  during 
the  famine  time,  that  he  was  laid  up  with  a  fever,  con- 
tracted while  engaged  in  reheving  the  starving.  But  he 
from  this  time  got  a  little  away  from  the  ''  Apostolic  " 
centre  ;  afterwards  his' society  became  naturally  more 
purely  ecclesiastical.  He  was  somewhat  swayed  by 
his  friendship  for  Wilberforce,  who  said  to  him,  ''  My 
dear  Trench,  if  there  were  only  one  book  left  in  the 
world— putting  aside  the  Bible— what  would  you 
choose  ?  "  ''  Oh,  I  have  no  doubt,  of  course,  I  should 
choose  St.  Augustine."  To  which  Wilberforce  re- 
plied, "Ah,  I  know  you  think  me  a  terrible  Calvinist." 
It  was  Trench  who  buried  Harriet,  Lady  Ashburton, 
and  he  said,  referring  to  all  the  distinguished 
mourners  who  attended  her  funeral,  amongst  whom 
were  a  goodly  percentage  of  "  Apostles,"  "  It  was 
not  so  much  this  woman's  sympathy  or  attraction 
that  these  men  felt  as  they  stood  by  her  grave,  but 
the  echoes  of  their  own— now  passing— brilliancy  and 
maturity." 


RICHARD    CHENEVIX   TRENCH        345 

And  when  Thackeray  died,  he  wrote  to  Brookfield  : 
"  I  understand  the  funeral  of  our  dear  departed  friend 
is  to  be  on  Tuesday.  Can  you  tell  me  exactly  when 
and  where,  and  whether  the  presence  of  those  who 
honoured  and  loved  him,  though  not  bound  to  him  by 
ties  of  blood  or  of  especial  intimacy,  would  be  wel- 
come ?  In  such  a  case  I  should  like  much  to  attend, 
and  would  put  off  my  going  to  Ireland  for  a  day  that  I 
might  so  do." 

Richard  Chenevix  Trench  possessed  not  only  the 
thoughts  and  lyre  of  a  lofty  poet,  but  all  the  mediaeval 
high  qualities  of  which  he  loves  to  sing — loyalty,  de- 
votion, rectitude,  courage.  There  was  no  one  in  that 
gifted  circle  of  "  Apostles  "  who  did  not  profit — or 
who  might  not,  had  he  chosen,  have  profited — from 
intimacy  with  Trench.  The  most  faithful  to  his 
friends,  the  most  unswerving  from  the  path  of  duty, 
and,  with  Kemble,  the  most  daring  when  brought  face 
to  face  with  danger.  He  expresses  very  beautifully 
in  one  of  his  sonnets,  as  one  who  has  felt  what  he  de- 
scribes, the  yearning  of  youth  to  achieve  and  the 
patience  he  should  have  when  opportunity  is  with- 
held :— 


Why  have  we  yet  no  great  dehverance  wrought  ? 
Why  have  we  not  truth's  banner  yet  unfurled, 
High  floating  in  the  face  of  all  the  world  ? 
Why  do  we  live  and  yet  accomplish  naught  ? 
These  are  the  stirrings  of  an  unquiet  thought, 
What  time  the  years  pass  from  us  of  our  youth. 
And  we  unto  the  altar  of  high  truth 
As  yet  no  worthy  offering  have  brought. 


346        THE   CAMBRIDGE   ^^ APOSTLES" 

But  now  we  bid  these  restless  longings  cease  : 

If  heaven  has  aught  for  us  to  do  or  say, 

Our  time  will  come  :    and  we  may  well  hold  peace, 

When  He,  tiU  thrice  ten  years  had  passed  away, 

In  stillness  and  in  quietness  up  grew, 

Whose  word  once  spoken  should  make  all  things  new. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

GEORGE   STOVIN    VENABLES 

My  own  friend,  my  old  friend  ! 
Time's  a  soldier  bold  friend ! 
Of  his  lofty  prowess 
Many  a  tale  is  told,  friend  ! 
*  *  *  * 

But  though  earthly  nature 
Has  so  frail  a  mould,  friend  ! 
What  the  tyrant  cannot  do 
Is  to  make  us  cold,  friend  ! 

(Richard  Monxkton  Milnes.) 

The  historic  encounter  between  Master  Thackeray  and 
Master  Venables  which  took  place  in  the  Charterhouse 
playground  in  the  year  1824,  though  it  cost  the  former 
the  symmetry  of  his  nose,  proved  to  be  the  uncon- 
ventional inception  of  a  valuable  and  life-long  intimacy. 
The  impetuous  young  Thackeray  was  the  challenger, 
but  it  was  also  he  who,  after  his  defeat  and  on  a  little 
reflection,  proferred  to  the  victorious  Venables  the 
friendship  which  was  eagerly  accepted  and  which 
never  afterwards  wavered  for  a  moment.  Venables 
had  already  another  beloved  school-friend,  the  younger 
Lushington,  whose  companionship  Thackeray  willingly 
accepted,  and   the   three   lads   formed   a   happy   and 


348        THE  CAMBRIDGE   "APOSTLES" 

affectionate  triumvirate  united  by  similar  tastes,  and 
a  common  implacability  towards  Dr.  Russell,  a  head- 
master of  the  old  unsympathetic-disciplinarian  order- 
Venables  went  up  in  1829  to  Jesus,  but  he  im- 
mediately associated  himself  with  the  Trinity  set. 
He  competed  for  the  Chancellor's  Medal  for  EngUsh 
verse  the  Timhudoo  year,  and  won  it  in  1831  with  the 
North-West  Passage,  a  fine  piece  of  work  in  which  he 
says : — 

There  is  rest 
Dismal  and  dreary  on  the  silent  sea. 
Most  dismal  quiet  :  for  the  viewless  might 
Of  the  keen  frost  wind  crisps  the  curling  waves. 
Binding  their  motion  with  a  clankless  chain 
Along  the  far  horizon. 

He  was  by  all  the  set  considered  to  be  a  "  great  " 
man.  He  had  considerable  humour,  of  a  somewhat 
cynical  and  acidulated  kind,  not  unlike  that  of  his 
friend  W.  H.  Thompson,  and  his  carefully  balanced 
epigrams  were  welcomed  and  treasured  and  much 
quoted  by  his  companions.  Whewell,  whom  they 
all  respected,  came  in  at  one  time  for  a  good  deal 
of  criticism,  and  Venables'  "  Whewell's  humbug  and 
inbecility  reciprocally  limit  each  other  "  was  received 
with  joy. 

Venables  was  tall  and  strong  and  strikingly  hand- 
some, as  his  picture  late  in  life,  painted  by  John  Collier, 
proclaims.  He  had  a  slight  lisp  which  lent  a  distinct 
character  to  his  pungent  remarks,  while  the  gravity  and 
dignity  of  his  demeanour  enhanced  the  effect  of  his 


Fror. 


George  Stovin  Venables 

the  painting  by  the  Hon.  John  Collier 


GEORGE    STOVIN  VENABLES  349 

conversational  sallies.  It  was  said  of  him  that  "  a 
more  delightful  companion  was  never  known." 

He  took  his  B.A.  in  1832,  M.A.  in  1835,  became 
fellow  of  Jesus  and  was  called  to  the  Bar  in  1836.  He 
went  on  the  Oxford  circuit  for  a  little,  but  afterwards 
confined  himself  entirely  to  Parliamentary  practice. 
Recognized  as  the  intellectual  equal  of  the  ablest  men 
of  his  time,  he  chose,  in  his  non-professional  hours, 
employment  at  which  little  reputation  could  be  made. 
His  pubhc  work  was  anonymous  journalism.  He 
wrote  for  the  Saturday  and  other  reviews,  as  well  as 
for  The  Times  newspaper,  of  which  he  usually  com- 
piled the  annual  summary.  He  was  a  type  of  journalist 
less  rare  eighty  years  ago  than  now.  A  polished 
gentleman  in  easy  circumstances,  and  of  good  social 
position,  of  lofty  thought,  and  high  scholarly  attain- 
ments, he  worked  not  for  profit  or  reclame,  but  to  raise 
the  minds  of  the  multitudes  and  instil  into  them  the 
spirit  of  patriotism  and  loyalty. 

He  was  much  attached  to  all  his  old  "  Apostle  " 
friends.  Lushington  was,  of  course,  his  most  intimate 
associate  ;  their  friendship,  indeed,  rivalled  that  of 
Tennyson  and  Hallam.  Milnes  attracted  and  fasci- 
nated him,  and  he  had  a  high  esteem  and  admiration 
for  Tennyson,  whom  he  saw  constantly  and  to  whom 
he  wrote  often  and  critically.  He  pushed  his  work  with 
all  his  power,  and  when  the  "  Princess  "  was  written, 
it  was  he  who  suggested  and  composed  the  second 
line  at  the  beginning  of  the  fourth  book,  which 
runs : — 


350         THE   CAMBRIDGE   '^APOSTLES 

There  sinks  the  nebulous  star  we  call  the  sun, 
//  that  hypothesis  of  theirs  he  sound. 


His  affection  for  the  great  poet  and  his  family  was 
cordially  reciprocated,  and  the  bond  between  them 
was  strengthened  by  the  Lushington  hnk  which,  had 
all  things  shaped  themselves  as  Venables  sometimes 
dreamed,  would  have  been  two-fold. 

There  is  a  popular  impression  that  Thackeray 
founded  the  character  of  "  George  Warrington  "  in 
Pendennis  upon  George  Venables,  but  it  is  difficult  to 
discover  the  faintest  resemblance  between  the  two. 
It  is  true  that  Venables  wrote  "  in  a  newspaper  now 
and  then  "  and  that  his  style  was  easily  recognizable 
by  "  the  strong  thoughts  and  curt  periods,  the  sense, 
the  satire,  and  the  scholarship."  But  on  the  other 
hand  there  was  never  a  journalist  less  of  a  ^'  Bohemian  " 
— nor,  indeed,  more  of  "  Gorgio  " — than  Venables  ;  he 
was  never  a  pipe-smoker,  nor  did  any  one  ever  see  him, 
after  manhood,  unshorn. 

His  polished  manners  no  less  than  his  polished  wit 
made  him  greatly  in  demand  for  social  functions, 
especially  dinners  and  house  parties.  He  used  to  tell 
a  story  of  a  certain  well  known  earl  whom  he  met  at 
Lansdowne  House,  of  whom  he  asked  whether  he  ever 
saw  Punch?  "Why,  no,"  replied  his  lordship,  "to 
say  the  truth  I'm — er — not  much  of  a  bookworm  !  " 

When  asked  by  Mrs.  Sartoris  to  differentiate  be- 
tween two  persons  who  had  unaccountably  crept  into 
Society  (which  resented  their  presence)  he  said,  "  One 


GEORGE    STOVIN  VENABLES  351 

is  a  snob  without  being  vulgar,  and  the  other  is  vulgar 
without  being  a  snob." 

When  Brookfield  was  getting  up  oral  reading  **  by 
persons  possessing  leisure  and  a  fair  amount  of  the 
personal  qualifications  requisite  for  such  a  function," 
as  wholesome  and  instructive  amusement  for  the  poor, 
he  asked  Venables  to  give  him  advice  as  to  what  he 
would  recommend  for  such  readings,  on  which  Venables 
replied  : — 

"  My  dear  Brookfield, — 

"  I  should  think  it  might  be  said  that  the  first  ad- 
vantage of  reading  out  what  is  good  in  itself  is  that  it 
multiplies  the  appreciation  of  the  book  almost  by  the 
number  present,  just  as  a  small  joke  or  a  dog  running 
down  the  course  makes  thousands  of  people  laugh 
though  it  would  not  make  a  single  person  smile.  This 
is  remarkably  the  case  with  poetry,  read  to  those  who 
care  for  poetry,  and  it  is  much  easier  to  find  an  audience 
which  cares  for  some  kinds  of  prose.  There  is  an  ex- 
citement in  any  simultaneous  thought  or  feeling  which 
cannot  he  produced  in  solitude.  Then  it  is  only  by 
reading  out  or  listening  that  the  attention  of  most 
people  is  fixed  on  the  language^  the  precision,  and  the 
harmony  which  with  other  things  constitute  style,  and 
form  the  element  of  art  in  literature  and  the  condition 
of  permanence.  Nearly  all  readers,  especially  in  an 
age  of  reading,  read  idly  and  carelessly  for  the  sake 
of  the  matter,  which  can  be  got  at  almost  in  uncon- 
sciousness of  the  words.  This  is  the  way  in  which 
newspapers  are  read,  forming  probably  nine-tenths  of 
the  reading  of  ninty-nine  hundredths  of  people  who 
can  read.  The  same  careless  way  of  reading  extends 
to  books  which  would  deserve  more  attention.     Another 


352  THE  CAMBRIDGE  "APOSTLES" 

class  of  readers  are  careless  of  style  from  extreme  in- 
terest in  the  subject.  As  Germans  who  are  contented 
with  a  profusion  of  victuals  not  cooked  at  all,  that  is 
of  long  involved  sentences  full  of  learning,  but  neither 
balanced  nor  in  tune,  and  with  the  verb  at  the  end. 
Consequently  hardly  any  German  has  ever  been  able 
to  write  his  own  language,  and  I  should  think  it  must 
be  impossible  to  read  out  any  but  one  or  two  books 
of  German  prose. 

"  All  poetry  that  is  good  for  anything  is  good  to 
read  out  to  those  who  care  for  it,  but  it  is  chilling  work 
to  read  it  to  those  who  listen  to  it,  as  I  do  to  a  soprano 
cavatina  in  E. 

"  But  all  poetry  is  carefully  finished  in  language, 
and  not  merely  shovelled  out  like  blue  book  prose. 
It  is  for  this  reason  chiefly  that  it  does  to  read  out. 
One  great  advantage  of  the  habit  of  reading  out  by  a 
judicious  reader  is  that  he  is  almost  certain  for  his 
own  sake  to  select  books  or  passages  which  have  a 
more  or  less  carefully  elaborated  style.  For  style  is 
neither  more  nor  less  than  the  whole  art  of  litera- 
ture 

"  I  think  you  might  digress  for  four  and  a  half 
minutes  on  style,  of  which  the  capability  of  pleasant 
utterance  is  one  of  the  most  infallible  tests.  Perfect 
lucidity  and  due  proportion  of  meaning  to  sound  being 
elements,  and  the  arrangement  of  thoughts  and  words 
as  far  as  possible  in  the  natural  or  logical  order.  The 
mere  reader,  if  he  does  not  understand  the  beginning 
of  a  sentence  or  paragraph  can  look  at  the  end. 
Articles  in  The  Times  begin  with  an  anecdote  or  a  story 
of  generalities  which  are  both  really  and  apparently 
nearly  as  well  adapted  to  the  reformation  of  adult 
criminals  as  to  Schleswig-Holstein,  but  the  world  in 
general  can  look  just  as  easily  at  the  middle  of  the 


GEORGE   STOVIN  VENABLES  353 

article   as   at  the  beginning,  and  therefore  it   never 
notices  the  essential  error  of  the  composition. 

"  A  sensitive  oral  reader  instinctively  sympathizes 
with  the  vexation  of  an  audience  which  is  puzzled  or 
bored,  and  he  then  finds  by  experience  that  he  is 
safest  in  reading  authors  who  win  readers  in  their  art ; 
this  reading  tends  therefore  to  improve  and  elevate 
the  taste  and  generally  to  make  the  treatment,  the 
language,  in  short,  the  art,  more  prominent  than  the 
mere  gratification  of  curiosity.  In  Miss  Austen  the 
pleasure  of  the  details  and  the  simple,  forcible  style 
prevail  over  any  tendency  to  hurry  to  the  end.  I 
think  you  could  find  in  her  novels  some  admirable 
passages  of  intelligible  and  pleasant  humour  and  good 
sense — not  much  pathos.  Charles  Lamb  is  admirable 
for  reading  out — he  polished  every  word  as  well  as 
every  sentence  and  nothing  could  be  changed  without 
destroying  the  whole  value.  For  one  thing  Sterne's 
language  is  admirably  simple  and  fine,  and  notwith- 
standing his  indecencies  he  had  an  admirable  taste  in 
creating  pure  and  refined  characters  with  very  few 
touches.  In  the  story  of  Lefevre  himself,  there  is  no 
superfluous  piling  up  of  miseries,  merely  a  melancholy 
condition  which  speaks  for  itself,  and  the  pathetic  effect 
is  produced  mainly  by  the  sympathy  of  Uncle  Toby, 
whose  gentleness  again  gives  force  to  his  celebrated 
oath,  and  I  think  his  character  might  be  illustrated  by 
two  or  three  other  short  quotations,  as  his  reply  to 
Mr.  Shandy  when  he  had  insulted  him  about  his  for- 
tification books  and  his  remark  on  Ernulphus's  curse, 
that  he  could  not  find  it  in  his  head  to  curse  the  devil, 
etc.  He  is  cursed  and  damned  already,  said  Dr.  Slop. 
"  I  am  sorry  for  it,"  said  my  Uncle  Toby.  Even  the 
little  circumstance  of  his  getting  his  roquelaure  to  go 
out  in  the  cold  and  dark,  and  Trim's  unwiUingness  to 

23— (2318) 


354        THE   CAMBRIDGE  ''APOSTLES" 

let  him  go,  are  skilfully  brought  in,  and  the  whole  is 
admirably  short. 

"  I  should  certainly  not  have  tendered  these  sug- 
gestions on  the  suction  of  eggs  if  the  venerable  lady 
had  not  encouraged  the  liberty,  but  I  have  no  doubt 
you  will  give  a  very  interesting  discourse,  and  you  can 
say  with  more  knowledge  of  the  subject  than  I  possess 
how  sound  is  superior  to  sense,  or  rather  how  it  is  the 
test  of  skill  in  expressing  sense,  the  crystallization  being 
more  essential  to  the  diamond  than  the  charcoal  which 
is  the  substance. 

"  Yours  very  truly, 

"  G.  S.  Venables." 

"  Carlyle  is  excellent  for  reading  out  but  with  the 
same  limitations  as  to  audience  which  apply  to  poetry." 

Once  when  Venables  was  leaving  a  dinner  party 
where  Sir  Frederick  Pollock  also  had  been,  he  took 
up  his  hat  in  the  hall,  saying,  "  Here's  my  Castor — 
Where's  Pollock's  ?  "  Always  a  favoured  guest  at  the 
Grange,  he  said  at  a  time  when  he  and  the  world  in 
general  were  much  excited  over  inland  travellers,  that 
Mr.  Parky ns'  book  on  Africa  was  the  most  successful 
attempt  on  record  of  a  man  being  able  to  reduce  him- 
self to  the  savage  state. 

Thackeray  once  said  to  Mrs.  Brookfield  of  a  party 
attheAshburtons',  "Venables  was  there,  very  shy  and 
grand-looking — how  kind  that  man  has  always  been 
to  me  ! — and  a  Mr.  Simeon  of  the  Isle  of  Wight,  an 
Oxford  man,  who  won  my  heart  by  praising  certain 
parts  of  Vanity  Fair,  which  people  won't  like." 
While    Lady    Ashburton    once    said,     "  I    have    told 


GEORGE  STOVIN    VENABLES  355 

Venables  it  surely  is  not  necessary  to  enter  every 
drawing-room  with  the  feehngs  of  Prometheus  pre- 
pared to  defy  the  vulture." 

Later  on  in  the  following  letter  Brookfield  again 
consulted  Venables  on  the  subject  of  popular  methods 
of  interesting  and  instructing  the  lower  middle 
classes  : — 

"  My  dear  Venables, — 

"  The  chief  motive  of  these  lines  is  the  credit  that 
reflects  upon  one  who  corresponds  with  Palaces  and 
all  that  therein  is.  But  the  secondary  excitement  is 
that  I  want  to  ask  you  for  two  or  three  hints  or  heads 
upon  the  advantages  which  might  attend  the  cultiva- 
tion of  a  little  ornamental  literature  (having  an  eye 
chiefly  to  poetry)  in  the  education  provided  for  the 
less  leisured  classes — say  the  artizan  class  or  a  little 
higher.  Of  course  I  am  assuming  that  Conservative 
as  you  are  you  do  think  such  a  thing  desirable  if 
practicable.  If  you  don't — why  then  the  question 
falls.  I  don't  want  to  impose  any  troublesome  task 
upon  you.  But  if  while  walking  backwards  or  for- 
wards on  the  lawn  by  yourself  (supposing  that  York 
ever  allows  you  to  be  by  yourself)  you  would  bestow 
a  few  movements  of  your  brain  upon  me,  I  should  be 
greatly  benefited.  Could  you  suggest  any  book  or 
books  that  would  help  one  in  cooking  up  a  lecture  of 
popular  and  amusing  character  upon  the  English 
language  ? 

"  The  cask  that  contained  the  wine  of  those  Lys- 
dinam  days  retains  or  will  retain  its  fragrance.  You 
drove  your  team  admirably  well ;  and  the  result  was 
really  perfection,  though  such  superlatives  make  one 
pause  for  a  moment  to  consider  their  propriety.     I 


356  THE   CAMBRIDGE   ^^4P0STLES" 

really  don't  know  how  social  pleasure  could  go  beyond 
it.  I  wish  you  may  be  as  fortunate  in  the  North  as 
I  was  in  the  South- West. 

"  Ever  yours  truly, 

"  W.  H.  Brookfield." 

To  this  Venables,  who  was  staying  with  the  Arch- 
bishop of  York,  replied  :— 

"  York, 
<(  - .  "  October  2. 

My  dear  Brookfield, — 

"  It  has  happened  that  I  could  not  write  this  and 
no  other  letters  till  to-day.  The  one  day  which  might 
have  been  available  we  went  to  Leeds  to  see  the 
Exhibition,  and  as  we  came  back  we  didn't  come  back 
to  York,  the  train  taking  us  through  to  Scarborough  ; 
a  saintly  Archbishop  bellowing  out  of  the  window,  a 
pious  Dr.  Vaughan  cursing  and  a  Z.C.  blessing  inside, 
so  that  day  was  provided  for. 

"  There  are  Lady whom  I  know  and  like,  and 

Lord  Houghton,  but  he  is  at  Birmingham.     He  wants 

you  to  succeed  X ,  but  I  fear  he  will  scarcely  manage 

it.  There  are  two  young  Greek  women  here,  and  there 
is  a  rich  woman  called  Miss  Coutts  coming.  It  is  not 
unpleasant.  I  return  to  my  crust  and  hollow  tree  on 
Monday  from  here.  I  rather  wish  you  had  requested 
more  definitely  what  you  want,  but  I  am  all  for  poetry 
as  the  most  devulgarizing  of  instruments,  and  I  incline 
to  Shakespeare  (say  King  John,  Midsummer  Night, 
and^s  you  like  it)  above  all  other  books;  then 
Robinson  Crusoe,  then  Ivanhoe,  and  Lay  of  the  Last 
Minstrel ;  but  I  have  no  doubt  I  could  think  of  details 
if  I  knew  better  what  you  want.  A  good  argument 
and  illustration  might  be  taken  from  the  Athenians, 
all  of  whom  heard  and  cared  for  the  great  tragedies 


GEORGE  STOVIN  VENABLES  357 

in  the  theatre,  being  the  most  cultivated  people,  all 
through,  that  ever  lived,  and  the  Jews  who  had  the 
Psalms,  Isaiah,  etc.,  at  their  fingers'  ends.  I  should 
proceed  with  the  subject,  the  only  possible  equality  of 
education,  equal  in  quality  to  the  highest,  as  it  can't 
be  in  quantity  (conceive  an  average  Cambridge  man 
in  our  time,  having  more  education  than  can  be  given 
to  the  lower  middle  classes),  but  it  is  the  correct  thing 
to  assume  intellectual  sympathy  which  would  relieve 
popular  oration  from  the  temptation  to  be  low,  etc., 
etc.  and  etc. 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  G.  S.  Venables." 

"  October  9. 
"  My  dear  Brookfield, — 

"  In  regard  of  poetry  I  think  you  would  do  well  to 
get  up  Chaucer's  Prologue  to  the  Canterbury  Tales, 
which  is  quite  unequalled  as  a  bit  of  English  history 
showing  the  similarity  and  the  dissimilarity  of  things 
500  years  ago  and  things  now,  and  it  is  also  unequalled 
in  itself.  With  the  vocabulary  which  is  in  all  ordinary 
editions  you  could  easily  get  over  all  the  obsolete 
words,  which  are  not  many,  and,  reading  it  out  with 
modern  pronunciation,  except  when  the  verse  requires 
the  sounding  of  a  mute  '  e,'  you  would  find  nothing 
simpler  or  more  intelligible.  It  is  calculated  to  be,  in 
parts  of  it  at  least,  pre-eminently  popular,  and  it  would 
be  much  newer  than  Shakespeare.  I  know  nothing 
like  it — for  the  last  century  ;  there  are  bits  of  Pope  which 
would  be  very  good,  and  new  to  most  people ;  and  for 
an  earlier  time  there  are  very  pretty  bits  of  Donne, 
Cowley,  Andrew  Marvell,  etc.  I  should  say  Pope's 
Homer,  too,  which  has  much  more  ring  than  Lord 
Derby's.    All  which,  if  irrelevant,  excuse. 


358        THE  CAMBRIDGE   "APOSTLES" 

"  I  returned  here  on  Wednesday.  I  asked  Thirl- 
wall,  who  is  coming  to  open  a  church,  but  he  is  going 
to  Llwynmedoc  (Mrs.  Thomas').  In  the  latter  part  of 
Bishopthorpe  there  were  Mr.  Henry  Holland  and  Miss 
Coutts.  I  need  hardly  say  that  I  proposed  to  her  and 
was  accepted,  but  there  is  a  temporary  impediment 
caused  by  my  objection  on  principle  to  squander  any 
more  of  my  substance  on  colonial  Bishoprics  and 
Churches.  I  see  you  are  not  Dean  of  St.  Paul's  or 
Bishop  of  Peterborough.  I  am  afraid  the  chances 
are  against  your  being  Hawkins. 

"  Yours  ever  sincerely, 

**  G.  Venables." 

Brookfield  was  always  delighted  by  Venables'  re- 
tort when  he  was  asked  for  Scripture  proof  against 
bigamy.  "  No  man  can  serve  two  masters."  It  was 
he  who  said  he  could  not  for  the  life  of  him  under- 
stand what  the  millennium  meant,  unless  it  denoted  a 
period  when  every  one  would  possess  a  thousand  a 
year  !  He  was  always  kindly  and  hospitable,  and  he 
was  ever  willing  to  give  genial  invitations  and  sensible 
advice  in  one  breath. 

"  My  dear  Brookfield, — 

"  I  don't  think  self-blame  is  generally  a  recommen- 
dation. What  is  the  use  of  disinterring  a  diamond 
if  it  is  only  a  bit  of  charcoal  ?  I  wish  you  were  likely 
to  be  coming  here,  for  I  am  afraid  I  am  not  likely  to 
come  to  Somerby,  and  I  am  much  in  want  of  assistance 
in  drinking,  not  Maderia  of  the  vintage  of  Sarepta 
(see  Old  Testament),  for  I  happen  to  have  none,  but  a 
proving  of  port  and  claret  which  is  beyond  my  personal 
necessities.     I   expect  Mere  wether  and  his  wife  here 


GEORGE   STOVIN    VENABLES  359 

to-day;  they  will  be  horribly  bored,  as  it  has  been  dry 
and  now  rains.  If  it  had  rained  and  was  now  dry,  he 
might  probably  catch  a  salmon,  which  is  what  he 
comes  for— under  present  circumstances  he  might 
as  well  expect  to  catch  a  crocodile.  Will  you  present 
my  respectful  regards  to  Miss  Baring,  who,  I  hope, 
will  hke  her  load  of  visits  better  than  I  hke  solitary 
squireening." 

And  another  time  he  said  : — 

**  My  dear  Brookfield,— 

"  I  expect  the  Master  and  Mistress  of  Trinity,  and 
Thompson  on  the  19th,  and  it  would  greatly  add  to 
their  satisfaction  in  the  visit  if  they  met  a  person  of 
your  well-known  attainments,  not  to   say   principles. 

When  they  go  I  believe  K is  coming,  and  even 

K 's  company  I  will  not  grudge  you,  though  I  am 

aware  of  the  danger  to  me  from  the  competition  !  It 
will  be  provident  to  announce  your  train  that  I  may 
send  to  the  station. 

"If  you  can  come  about  the  i6th,  I  shall  be  glad  to 
know  of  it ;  but  if  you  can't  come,  then  I  should  be 
glad  for  reasons  not  to  know  of  it  till  the  17th,  having 
in  fact  an  interest  in  using  your  image  in  default  of 
yourself  to  propel  certain  other  guests  for  whose  de- 
parture I  want  to  fix  a  not  quite  unlimited  terni. 
Having  announced  that  I  am  expecting  a  party  who  is 
yourself,  in  the  middle  of  next  week,  I  wish  to  be  still 
expecting  and  I  hope  expecting  on  solid  grounds; 
but  if  not,  then  in  want  of  cause  to  the  contrary." 

With  a  card  to  Brookfield  to  a  grand  dinner  in 
Mercer's  Hall,  Blakesley  being  Master  that  year,  he 
sent  the  following,  of  course  as  a  joke  :— 


36o        THE  CAMBRIDGE  "APOSTLES" 

"  Sir,— 

"  I  enclose  a  card  of  invitation  to  a  dinner  of  mv 
Corporation  to-morrow.  I  am  sure  your  interest  in 
the  prosperity  of  the  trade  with  which  I  have  been 
so  long  connected,  will  induce  you  to  attend.  Speci- 
mens of  cloth  silk,  flannel,  and  other  mercery  goods 
will  be  handed  round  between  the  courses  •  the  table- 
cloth of  my  own  manufacture.  After  dinner  a  collec- 
tion ^ylll  be  made  for  the  heirs  and  personal  repre- 
sentatives of  deceased  capitahsts  connected  with  the 
Company. 

''  Your  obedient  servant, 

"  G.  S.  Venables." 

To  Lord  Houghton,  who  was  in  some  alarm  about 
some  action  of  Bright's,  Venables  once  said,  "  I  no 
more  believe  that  political  democracy  in  England  will 
be  compatible  with  social  aristocracy  than  I  do  that 
Colenso  is  compatible  with  Christianity." 
'  Venables  told  Milnes  that  his  house  in  Bolton  Road 
was  the  scene  of  the  death  of  Fred  Maurice  as  weU  as 
of  the  reception  of  Manning  into  the  Catholic  Church 
on  which  Houghton  improvised  an  inscription  to  be 
put  over  the  door  : — 

Ex  HAG  HOMO 

Fredericus  Maurice 

ad  superos 
Henricus  Manning 

ad  inferos 
Transierunt. 

To  Brookfield,  Venables  said  when  they  were  both 
getting  older  :— 


GEORGE    STOVIN    VENABLES  361 

"  My  dear  Brookfield, — 

"  Things  will  change  in  thirty  years.  It  is  a  way 
they  have.  I  might  say  of  my  eyes  as  the  Miller's 
Daughter's  husband  says  of  his  wife's  eyes,  *  They 
have  not  read  a  many  sermons,  dear  eyes,  since  first 
you  knew  them  well,'  but  they  have  read  your  sermon, 
and  very  eloquent  and  artist-like  it  is,  with  the  evident 
quality  of  having  been  more  especially  oral  before  it 
was  written,  or  at  least  before  it  was  printed.  The 
gift  of  oratorical  writing  is  rather  a  mystery  to  me, 
and  all  the  more  appreciated.  I  can  more  or  less  both 
write  and  speak,  but  I  can't  write  what  I  am  going  to 
speak.  I  can  very  well  see  that  your  style  accounts  for 
success  as  a  preacher  as  far  as  that  depends  on  style. 
"  Yours  ever, 

"  G.  S.  Venables." 

This  was  not  long  before  Brookfield  died,  and  when 
the  latest  development  of  the  Tennyson  sonnet  on 
his  friend  was  submitted  to  Venables,  he  wrote  back  : — 

"  I  Hke  the  new  version  best,  except  the  repetition 
of  Brooks,  which  I  detest." 

In  their  Joint  Compositions  Venables  and  Lushington 
wrote  concerning  the  incendiary  fires  at  Cambridge  in 
183 1,  at  a  time  when  there  were  rumours  of  a  mob 
advancing  upon  that  town  : — 

Some  said,  "  To  sack  the  Colleges 
And  some  to  break  the  jail." 


At  dawn  we  heard,  that  night  by  six 
Nor  love  nor  money  purchased  sticks. 


362         THE   CAMBRIDGE   "APOSTLES" 

Quick  ranged  in  numbered  bands 

We  watched  each  post  and  passage  straight 

From  Jesus  to  the  towered  gate 

Where  sceptred  Edward  stands. 


Unto  the  Poet  wise  we  spoke 

"  Is  any  law  of  battle  broke 

By  pouring  from  afar 

Water  or  oil  or  melted  lead  ?  " 

The  Poet  raised  his  massive  head — 

"  Confound  the  laws  of  war  !  " 

Kinglake  said  to  Mrs.  Brookfield,  "  Venables  had 
romance  in  his  nature,  and  I  know  that,  Hke  most  men 
of  his  high  intellect,  he  had  humour,  but  for  years  he 
has  seemed  to  me  like  a  brilliant  sort  of  man  who  had 
unwillingly  taken  a  judgeship.  You  know  him  ten 
thousand  times  better  than  I  do.  It  is  always  the  true 
woman  friend  that  has  the  soundest  knowledge  of  a 
man."  The  great  and  beautiful  attachment  of  his  life 
was  to  Henry  Lushington — from  early  schoolboy  days  he 
constituted  himself  his  champion  and  admirer,  and 
he  was  that  unto  that  dear  friend's  death.  There  is 
no  doubt  but  that  this  group  stands  unique  in  their 
unselfish  affections.  There  was  first  of  all  the  amalga- 
mated friendship  of  the  whole  body  of  the ''  Apostles  " 
which  is  unique  in  history ;  then  the  secondary  and 
closer  unions,  for  most  of  them  chose  out  of  their  number 
one  to  be  his  bosom  friend,  and  kept  him  through  all 
times  and  changes,  troubles  and  vicissitudes^ — always 
generously  submitting  his  will,  always  unselfishly  help- 
ing his  needs. 

When  we  survey  these  "  Cambridge  Apostles,"   all 


•  GEORGE    STOVIN    VENABLES  363 

of  them  "  poets  whose  thoughts  enrich  the  blood  of 
the  world/'  all  of  them  men  of  intellect,  all  of  them 
scholars  of  attainment,  all  gentlemen  ''  of  dignified 
bearing  and  of  independence  of  mind  and  nature,"  each 
worthy  of  the  title  of  genius,  as  such  proved  who  chose, 
the  beautiful  fact  remains  that  that  which  impresses 
and  delights  us  most  is  not  their  marvellous  accomplish- 
ment, but  the  warm  and  faithful  affection  they  bore  for 
one  another.  Our  minds  are  dazzled  by  their  separate 
achievements,  but  our  hearts  are  warmed  by  their 
mutual  love.  It  was  the  spirit  of  helping,  not  of  out- 
stripping, each  other  which  stimulated  these  faithful 
friends  on  their  way.  Let  those  who  aspire  to  emulate 
the  members  of  that  early  ''  Conversazione  Society  " 
strive  to  cultivate  their  greatness  of  soul  ere  they 
attempt  to  practise  their  agility  of  mind.  Arthur 
Hallam  was  well  inspired  when  he  wrote  the  following 
lines : — 

O  !    there  is  union,  and  a  tie  of  blood 
With  those  who  speak  unto  the  general  mind, 
Poets  and  sages  !     Their  high  privilege 
Bids  them  eschew  succession's  changefulness, 
And,  like  eternals,  equal  influence 
Shed  on  all  times  and  places. 


END. 


Index 


Alford,  Dean  of  Canterbury,  i8 
Arcedeckne,  Mr.,  6i 
Ashburton,  Lady,  120 


Barton,  Miss,  293 

Blakesley,  Joseph  William — 
enters  Corpus  Christi  College, 
85  ;  a  fine  classical  scholar, 
ih.  ;  introduced  to  the  Apostles 
by  Kemble,  86  ;  migrates  to 
Trinity,  ih.  ;  takes  his  degree, 
90 ;  a  tutor,  ib.  ;  befriends 
Lord  Lyttelton,  93  ;  interest 
in  the  Lyttelton  election  93- 
97  ;  Lord  Lyttleton's  appre- 
ciation, 99  ;  settles  at  Ware, 
ib.  ;  marries,  103  ;  story  of 
the  Beadle,  103,  104  ;  Master 
of  the  Mercers'  Company,  104  ; 
Edits  Herodotus,  105  ;  Canon 
of  St.  Paul's,  ib.  ;  and  Dean  of 
London,  ib. 

Letters :  to  Brookfield,  94, 
97,  98,  100,  102,  103,  105  ; 
to  Tennyson,  88,  286 ;  to 
Trench,  Sy,  88,  90  ;  to  Maurice, 
220. 

Boyd,  Robert,  291,  292,  297. 

Brookfield,  William  Henry- 
enters  Trinity,  20  ;  introduced 


to  Monckton  Milnes  and  Mon- 
teith,  21  ;  his  intellectual 
brilliance,  22 ;  his  personal 
influence,  23  ;  takes  his  de- 
gree, 29  ;  letter  from  Francis 
Garden,  29 ;  assists  Lord 
Lyttelton  in  his  candidature 
for  the  High  Stewardship,  31 ; 
his  fame  as  a  preacher,  32,  38  ; 
goes  to  London,  32  ;  a  favoured 
guest  at  literary  breakfasts, 
33  ;  first  meeting  with  Carlyle, 
34 ;  dines  with  Mr,  Pawles, 
35  ;  a  member  of  the  Sterling 
Club,  36  ;  a  great  conversa- 
tionalist, 36,  37  ;  his  wit,  39- 
41  ;  a  delightful  letter  writer, 
42 ;  friendship  with  Thackeray, 
55  ;  Inspector  of  Schools,  63  ; 
President  of  the  Cambridge 
Union,  141. 

Letters  :  to  his  wife,  43,  44, 
45,  47,  48,  49,  59,  66,  68,  71, 
yy,  271  ;  to  Carlyle,  78 ;  to 
Blakesley,  91,  95,  loi  ;  to 
Miss  Ellin,  51 ;  to  Tennyson, 
25,  27  ;  to  Hallam,  138,  139  ; 
to  Venables,  355. 
Buller,  Charles — 10,  13,  18  ;  his 
logical  and  lively  disposition, 
107,    108  ;    pupil   of   Carlyle, 


366 


INDEX 


109 ;  Carlyle's  appreciation 
of  him,  no  ;  enters  Trinity, 
ib.  ;  takes  his  degree,  in  ; 
connexion  with  the  Apostohc 
Set,  in;  Member  for  Liskeard, 
ib.  ;  his  connexion  with  the 
housing  of  pubhc  records, 
112,  113  ;  his  speech  on  the 
same,  114,  115  ;  private  secre- 
tary to  Lord  Durham  in 
Canada,  116  ;  friendship  with 
Monckton  Milnes,  117,  118  ; 
hoax  at  the  Queen's  Fancy 
Ball,  118,  119  ;  friendship  with 
Lady  Ashburton,  120  ;  with 
Thackeray,  ib.  ;  his  death,  121 

Cambridge  Conversazione  So- 
ciety, The,  4 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  5,  34,  75,  77> 
109,  no,  117,  122,  218,  241, 
246,  274,  288,  307 

Coleridge,  S.  T.,  2,  3,  7,  299 

Clerical  Club,  The,  59 

Donne,  Wilham  Bodham  ;  135, 

159,  165,  166,  174,  223,  263 
Durham,  First  Lord,  116 


Ellin,  Miss,  5 
Elton,  Miss,  102 


Hallam,  Arthur,  8,  22,  23,  24  ; 
a  poet  at  nine  years  old,  121  ; 
at  Eton,  124  ;  his  astonishing 
intellectual  brilliance,  124, 125 ; 
goes  to  Italy,  125  ;  remarkable 
knowledge  of  the  Itahan  lan- 
guage, 125  ;  enters  Trinity, 
ib.  ;  his  faculties  not  suitable 
for  Cambridge,  127  ;  one  of 
the  embassy  to  the  Oxford 
Union,  128,  129,  130 ;  be- 
comes an  Apostle,  130 ;  his 
fame  as  a  debater,  131  ;  joins 
the  Spanish  Expedition,  132  ; 
disapproval  of  his  father,  133  ; 
unsuccessful  attempts  for  the 
Prize  Poem,  133  ;  gains  the 
College  prize  for  declamation, 
134  ;  his  hterary  activity,  135  ; 
goes  up  the  Rhine  with  Tenny- 
son, 147 ;  engagement  to 
Emily  Tennyson,  152  ;  at  the 
Bar,  154  ;  dies  at  Vienna,  155. 
Letters  :  to  Brookfield,  24, 
144,  147  ;  to  Donne,  136 ; 
to  Gladstone,  212  ;  to  Mrs. 
Tennyson,  135,  136,  3^7  :  to 
Trench  and  Kemble,  294 ;  to 
Venables,  355 

Hare,  Julius.  211 

Heath,  Douglas,  12,  19,  310 

,  John,  12,  19 


FitzStephen,  Sir  James,  12 
FitzGerald  Edward,  269 
Forster  John,  64,  65 

Garden,  Francis,  320 
Gladstone,  William  Ewart,  16, 
125,  126,  212,  224,  270 


Jersey,  Lady,  32 


Keats,  John,  17 
Kemble,  Fanny,  164,  174 
Kemble,    John,     10,     12 ;    the 

cheeriest  of  the  Apostles,  159  ; 

educated  at  Bury  St.  Edmunds, 


INDEX 


367 


ih.  ;  prints  his  own  newspaper, 
160 ;  goes  to  Cambridge  and 
becomes  an  Apostle,  160  ;  a 
fierce  debater,  161  ;  extremely 
handsome,  162  ;  his  appre- 
ciation of  Tennyson,  163  ;  fre- 
quents German  Universities, 
163 ;  dishke  to  his  sister 
Fanny  going  on  the  Stage, 
164 ;  acts  in  Much  Ado 
about  Nothing,  ib.  ;  friend- 
ship for  Donne,  166-168  ; 
takes  his  degree  and  goes  to 
Germany,  169  ;  lured  by  Ster- 
ling into  the  Spanish  business, 
ib. ;  the  story  of  the  Spanish 
Grenadiers,  171  ;  publishes 
Beowulf,  ib.  ;  gives  up  the 
idea  of  going  mto  the  Church 
and  marries,  174  ;  edits  The 
Review, iy4;  appointed hcenser 
of  plays,  180  ;  a  great  Anglo- 
Saxon  Scholar,  186 

Letters  :  to  Brookfield,  98, 
180-182,  184  ;  to  Donne,  175  ; 
to  Trench,  167,  172 

Kinglake,  A.  W.,  17,  19 

Kingsley,  Charles,  224 

Landor,  W.  S.,  235 
Lushington,  Edmund,  192 
Lushington,  Henry,  19  ;  a  bril- 
liant boy,  enters  Cambridge 
at  the  age  of  17,  188  ;  his 
health  breaks  down,  and,  to 
his  grief,  he  must  leave  Cam- 
bridge for  two  years,  189 ; 
wins  the  Porson  prize,  ib.  ; 
his  opposition  to  honorary 
degrees,  190  ;  friendship  for 
Tennyson  and  Venables,  191  ; 


his  excellent  essays,  193  ; 
a  good  critic,  193,  194  ;  pub- 
hshes  A  Great  Country's 
Little  Wars,  195  ;  the  catho- 
licity of  his  interests,  196 ; 
appointed  chief  secretary  to 
the  Government  of  Malta. 
197  ;  his  affection  for  Italians, 
198 ;  his  illness  and  death, 
199 

Lyttelton,  CaroHne,  65 

Lyttelton,  Lord,  31,  93 


Macaulay,  Lord,  121 
Manning,  Cardinal,  51,  219 
^^Iaurice,  Frederick  Denison,  10, 
14,  19 ;  a  profound  thinker 
and  hard  worker,  201  ;  born 
of  Unitarian  parents,  202  ; 
always  a  httle  uncertain  of 
himself,  203  ;  goes  to  Trinity, 
ib.  ;  friendship  for  Sterling, 
204  ;  becomes  an  Apostle  and 
revivifies  the  Society,  205  ; 
part  editor  of  the  Metropolitan 
Quarterly,  206;  migrates  to 
Trinity  Hall  to  study  law, 
206 ;  takes  a  first-class  in 
civil  law,  207 ;  unable  to 
conform,  ib.  ;  softens  towards 
the  Church  of  England,  208  ; 
leaves  Cambridge,  209 ;  His 
fantastic  idea  of  writing  a 
novel  with  Sterhng,  210  ;  takes 
over  the  Athenaeum,  ib.  ; 
determination  to  enter  the 
Church,  211  ;  acquaintance 
with  Gladstone,  212,  213 ; 
enters  at  Exeter  College,  Ox- 
ford,  211  ;   his  reluctance  to 


368 


INDEX 


sign  the  thirty-nine  articles, 
214 ;  publishes  Eustace  Con- 
way, 216 ;  opinion  of  High 
Churchmen,  217  ;  his  moral 
and  metaphysical  philosophy, 

217  ;    introduced   to   Carlyle, 

218  ;  his  opinion  of  Manning, 
219 ;  his  industry,  ih.  ;  his 
opinion  of  The  Record,  221  ; 
excelled  in  social  questions, 
223 ;  appointment  to  the 
chair  of  moral  philosophy  at 
Cambridge,  223  ;  his  fascina- 
tion for  the  men  of  his  time, 
224  ;  a  supporter  of  female 
suffrage,  225 

Letters:  to  Kemble,  95, 
179  ;  to  Milnes,  321 
Merivale,  Dean,  10,  31, 142 
Milnes,  Monckton,  10,  12, 18,  33, 
34,  36,  157,  222,  224 ;  the 
most  brilHant  luminary  of  the 
Apostles,  227  ;  arrival  at  Trin- 
ity College,  228 ;  a  fellow- 
commoner,  ih.  ;  meets  Tenny- 
son and  Hallam  for  the  first 
time,  229;  loved  advertiseraent 
and  personal  investigation, 
230 ;  his  relations  with  the 
Apostles,  and  Blakesley's, 
opinion  of  him,  231  ;  grief 
over  the  death  of  Hallam, 
232,  233 ;  opinion  of  the 
poetic  faculty,  234  ;  his  place 
as  a  poet,  235,  236,  237  ; 
strong  Catholic  leanings,  238, 
239 ;   elected  for  Pontefract, 

240  ;  an  indifferent  poUtician, 

241  ;  helps  bring  forward  the 
Copyright  Bill,  242  ;  loved  the 
society  of  the  clever  and  the 
great,  242  ;  a  Bohemian,  243  ; 


his  breakfasts,  ih.  ;  his  ohiter 
dicta,  245  ;  friendship  for  Car- 
lyle, 246  ;  made  a  peer,  247  ; 
completeness  of  his  charm, 
248 ;  his  speech  at  the  marriage, 
249  ;  a  man  of  clubs,  250  ;  his 
death,  ih. 
Montgomery,  Robert,  25,  26 
Monteith,  Robert,  15,  21 


Niebiihr,  8 

Newman,  Cardinal,  51,  53 


Pollock,  Sir  Frederick,  81,  354 


Radstock,  Lord,  222 
Reid,  Sir  Wemyss,  250 
Ritchie,  Mrs.,  310 


Spedding,  James,  18,  36,  157  ; 
affectionate  esteem  in  which 
he  was  held,  252  ;  The  Pope 
amongst  the  Set,  253 ;  a 
favourite  correspondent  of 
Tennyson's  253  ;  a  great  cor- 
respondent, 254  ;  appreciation 
of  Arthur  and  Henry  Hallam, 
265  ;  gives  up  the  Colonial 
Office  ;  269  ;  sociable  rather 
than  convivial,  270  ;  a  charm- 
ing host,  271  ;  a  warm  admirer 
of  Tennyson,  274  ;  of  Carlyle, 
275  ;  a  remarkably  handsome 
man,  281 ;  an  enthusiastic 
archer,  ih.  ;  his  magnum  opus, 
282 


INDEX 


369 


Letters  :  to  Brookfield,  272, 
275,  277  ;  to  Donne,  254,  257, 
258,  263-265,  266,  267 

Smith,  Sydney,  243 

Sterling,  Club,  The,  36,  301,  304, 
305 

Sterling,  John,  13,  14,  163, 
204,  205,  206,  210 ;  a  striking 
individuality,  283  ;  acquaint- 
anceship with  Maurice,  284  ; 
absorbed  by  the  Apostles, 
ib.  ;  settles  in  London  and 
takes  to  literature,  286  ;  takes 
over  the  Athenaeum,  287  ;  the 
Spanish  exiles,  288 ;  takes  up 
cudgels  for  them,  289,  290  ; 
wins  over  Boyd  to  the  cause 
of  Torrijos,  and  an  expedition 
is  formed,  291  ;  too  ill  to 
join  it,  292 ;  their  gunboat 
seized,  292  ;  keen  disappoint- 
ment at  his  failure,  293  ;  love 
for  Miss  Barton,  afterwards 
his  wife,  293  ;  the  conspirators 
fail  in  Spain,  and  his  distress, 
296 ;  Boyd  and  Torrijos  em- 
bark at  Gibraltar,  297  ;  they 
are  captured  and  shot,  ib.  ; 
this  catastrophe  casts  a  gloom 
over  Sterling's  hfe,  297  ;  con- 
templates taking  Orders,  298  ; 
a  lover  of  work,  299  ;  a  con- 
siderable poet,  300  ;  founds  a 
literary  club,  301  ;  which  is 
called  the  Sterhng  Club,  304, 
305  ;  Carlyle's  opinion  of  him, 
307 

Letters  :   to  Donne,  301  ;  to 
Trench,  285,  292,  295,  334 
Sunderland,  325 
34— (3318) 


Tait,  E.  W.,  224,  225 

Tennyson,  Alfred,  7,  18,  229, 
253  ;  would  have  been  a  great 
man  had  he  never  written 
verse,  308  ;  goes  to  Cambridge 
at  the  same  time  as  Milnes 
and  Spedding,  309  ;  eccentric, 
310 ;  a  confirmed  smoker, 
311 ;  his  love  for  his  friends, 
311,  312;  stimulating  influence 
of  Brookfield,  312  ;  Tennyson 
or  Milton — which  is  the  greater 
poet  ?  313 ;  becomes  an  Apostle, 

314  ;  Poems  by  Two  Brothers, 

315  ;  friendship  of  Arthur 
Hallam  for  him,  317  ;  partici- 
pation in  the  Spanish  plot, 
318 ;  fond  of  dancing,  ib.  ; 
the  Daily  Divan,  319 ;  the 
death  of  Hallam  a  terrible 
blow,  320;  begins  Ln  Memo- 
riam,  321 ;  Poet  Laureate,  323 ; 
practical  side  of  his  nature, 
324 ;  sudden  attacks  of  ill- 
humour,  325  ;  The  Omniana 
Books,  325,  326  ;  the  stately 
lady  reads  the  ode  to  Brook- 
field, 328  ;  views  on  religion, 
329 

Letters  :  to  Brookfield,  27, 
338  ;  to  Milnes,  322 

Thackeray,  VV.  M.,  35,  55,  57, 
60,  120 

Thompson,  W.  H.,  142 

Tomlinson,  Henry,  4 

Torrijos,  288,  289,  291,  295,  335 

Trench,  Richard  Chenevix,  10, 
18,  146,  163,  169,  170,  285, 
320 ;  distinguished  by  the 
maturity  of  his  moral  quali- 
ties, 331 ;  of  great  help  to 
Hallam,  332  ;  objects  to  the 


370 


INDEX 


philosophical  investigations  of 
his  friends,  333  ;  first  experi- 
ments in  hterature,  ih.  ;  meets 
Torrijos,  and  becomes  pledged 
to  the  Spanish  scheme,  336  ; 
returns  to  Cambridge,  338 ; 
ordained,  ih.  ;  publishes  his 
poems,  339  ;  at  Botley  Hill, 
340 ;    Vicar    of    Itchenstoke, 

343  ;  interested  in  the  poor, 

344  ;  on  the  death  of  Thack- 
eray, 345  ;  a  lofty  poet,  ib 

Letters  :  to  Brookfield,  341, 
342,  345  ;  to  Donne,  336  ;  to 
Kemble,  172,  175 

Venables,  George  Stovin,  19, 190, 
248  ;  early  encounter  between 
Master  Thackeray  and  Master 


Venables,  347  ;  goes  to  Jesus 
College,  348 ;  possessed  of 
considerable  humour,  ih.  ; 
fellow  of  Jesus  and  called  to 
the  bar,  349  ;  attached  to  his 
old  Apostle  friends,  349  ;  not 
the  George  Warrington  of 
Pendennis,  350,  361 ;  joint 
compositions  with  Lushing- 
ton,  361 ;  attachment  for  him, 
362 

Letters  :  to  Brookfield,  351, 
356.  357.  358,  359 


Wordsworth,  Wilham,  7,  257 
Wordsworth  (Master  of  Trinity), 

228 
Weld,  Cardinal,  232 


William  Henry  Brookfield,  b.  1809,  d.  1875.     Cambridge, 

1829.     H.M.  Inspector  of  Schools.     Rector  of  Somerby, 

1863.     Canon  of  Ealdland,  1866. 
Joseph  Henry  Blakesley,  b.  1808,  d.  1885.    Cambridge, 

1827.     Rector  of  Ware,  1846.    Canon  of  St.  Paul's,  1863. 

Dean  of  Lincoln,  1872. 
Charles   Buller,   b.    1806,   d.    1848.     Cambridge,    1825. 

M.P.  for  Liskeard,  1829.     Judge  Advocate,  etc. 
Arthur  Henry  Hallam,  b.   1811,  d.  1833.     Cambridge 

1828. 
John  Mitchell  Kemble,  b.  1807,  d.   1857.     Cambridge, 

1825.  Anglo-Saxon  Lecturer.     Examiner  of  Plays. 
Henry  Lushington,  b.  1812,  d.  1855.     Cambridge,  1828. 

Chief  Secretary  at  Malta. 
Frederick  Denison  Maurice,  b.   1805,  d.   1872.     Cam- 
bridge, 1824.     Oxford,  1829. 
Richard  Monckton  Milnes,  b.  1809,  d.  1893.     Cambridge, 

1827.     M.P.  for  Pontefract,  1837.     Received  peerage' 

'66  (Baron  Houghton). 
James   Spedding,    b.    1808,    d.    1881.     Cambridge,  1827. 

Colonial  Office.     Bacon's  Life  and  Works. 
John  Sterling,  b.  1806,  d.  1844.     Cambridge,  1824. 
Alfred    Tennyson,    b.  1809,  d.  1892.    Cambridge,  1827. 

Prize    Poem,     1829.     Laureate,     1850.     Peer    (Baron 

Tennyson),  1884. 
Richard  Chenevix  Trench,  b.  1807,  d.  1886.    Cambridge, 

1826.  Dean    of    Westminster,    1857.     Archbishop    of 
Dubhn,  1863. 

George  Stovin  Venables,  b.  1810,  d.  1888.     Cambridge, 
1829.     Queen's  Counsel.     Parliamentary  Bar. 


Butler  &  Tanner,  The  Selwood  Printing  Works,  Fromt,  and  London. 


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